The Orphaned Queen
by rozikov.01
Summary: She is a orphan, a slave taken from her destroyed home. He is a prince of his lands, powerful and merciless. She wants him dead. He wants her as his own. Set in a medieval land where the difference between life and death can be only a moment, Rose and Dimiti, from two different lands, have to learn to survive through war, hatred, death and betrayal. All human.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my second fanfic, an idea I've been playing around with for some time. I've always loved the whole medieval fantasy world, and what better way for me to use my imagination than place my favourite characters in a world of their own? I really hope you enjoy this; it's something I've been wanting to do for a while. Before we begin however, I would like to state that the characters in this story are owned by Richelle Mead- it is only the storyline and setting that comes from my head .

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><p>CHAPTER 1<p>

Smoke.

That was the first thing I noticed. Warmth was running down my face as I coughed, the smell clogging my throat.

Screams.

That was the second thing I noticed. Everywhere was screams, screams filling my ears, making me writhe in agony trying to escape them.

Soldiers.

They were everywhere, wearing the black of the Imperial army, merciless and cold in their actions and mannerisms.

Survivor.

That is what I was, a survivor of the massacre that had destroyed my entire world and would soon claim me.

Scramble.

That is what I did; leaping to my feet and running like a madwoman away, away from the pain and suffering.

Struggle.

That's what came next, when they grabbed me and tore at me, their bloodied hands grasping my hair, my body, tearing and ripping.

Suffocate.

That came after, the choking panic that seized me and would not release.

Succumb.

I awoke hours later, sore and bloodied. I was disoriented, light headed and woozy- my entire body felt like it had been pummelled. I tried to raise my head but fell back with a gasp; the intense pain shocked me, despite the fact I had grown up with it. I tried to move my hands to feel for the wound I knew was there, but my hands were tied. I'd always known my life was worthless, but even I had hoped for a better ending than this.

From my limited vantage point, I tried to study my surroundings. I was in the back of a cart or something; the movement beneath me alerted me to this. The surface I was lying on was hard and rough, scratching me with every move. The roof of the cart was little more than cloth, and for the first time I realised I was cold- very cold. Before I could gain any more information however, I heard voices and quickly closed my eyes.

"But the king," a man with a deep voice was arguing.

"The King isn't here," a gruff voice replied. "You listen to your prince."

"But the Prince is but a boy!"

"But a boy with more wit on him than ten men combined," the gruff male replied.

I listened intensely. A street rat, I had grown up relying on blackmail to survive. Anything I could hear now might serve me well in the future.

"Hmph," the deep voice scoffed. "We will see… for now."

Beneath me, the world stopped moving. I was instantly nauseous and rolled onto my side to avoid vomiting. That, of course, happened to be the exact moment the cloth covering of my prison was pulled back to reveal two soldiers clad all in black.

"Ah, she's awake!" The male with the gruff voice was older than the other soldier, with hair greying at the temples and piercing blue eyes. "Didn't think you'd make it after the blow young Lloyd landed on you lass."

"Stop treating it like its civilised," the younger male said with scorn. "It's little more than an animal."

I bared my teeth at the soldier, hissing. Better to be an animal than the spawn of Satan that he was.

"Wench!" The man screamed, darting forward to kick me in the ribs. I took the beating gratefully. Beating I could handle; uncertainty about my own fate I could not.

"Lloyd!" The older man cried, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and slamming him into the rickety walls. "What did the Prince say about harming his girls?"

"She's no girl," the boy snarled maliciously. I grinned at him again, looking deranged as blood flooded into my mouth. He yelled again, but was promptly thrown from the cart by the other soldier.

"Be gone," he said wearily, resolutely closing the flap and leaving us alone.

"Don't mind Lloyd," the soldier said after a few minutes of silence. I kept my mouth shut- I wasn't going to justify his words with a response.

"He doesn't realise that the world as he knows it isn't the way things are meant to be," the man continued, sitting down next to me and leaning his head against the wall. Fighting through the screaming agony in my head, I raised myself up by my elbows, watching him like a hawk. I didn't trust him; I didn't trust any of the Imperials. In fact, I didn't trust anybody.

"That must hurt," the warrior acknowledged, turning his head to gaze at me inquisitively. "Wouldn't have thought such a pretty girl like you would be able to withstand the pain."

I snorted at that, scoffing at his inability to understand. As an orphan, it was my looks that caused me pain. I had learnt from a very young age how to defend myself from the boys and men who thought that because I was a female they were entitled to my body. Many of the scars I bore came from those very fights, fights that had left me with pain that I had learnt to function through.

"You're a brave one," he said, still speaking. "Need to be in this world though I'd wager. From Andeep? One of the most primitive areas around. Although," he paused, looking at me. "I bet you don't see that we razed your village because it was primitive as a good thing, do you?"

I stared at the man, hoping my eyes conveyed all of the hatred I held for him. If I had my way, I would cut each and every one of the Imperials down before me, one by one, until I reached the wretched Belikov's, rulers of the Imperials. It was the Belikov's that had left me with nothing, the Belikov's that had taken the one true thing I had ever loved from me, and for that I vowed to make them pay with the very blood that had caused so many lives to be lost.

"Ah lass," the man finally sighed. "I understand how you feel. You're going to be a good one I think; one of the ones that finally puts up a fight. To tell you the truth, I think it's a damn shame women can't fight; I bet you'd match any man that came for you." I remained silent, staring the soldier down.

"I'm Russ, by the way," he informed me. "Russell is my full name, but none round these parts use it. Getting real sick of the fighting, I am. Bout time something changed."

So, the man was beginning to lose faith in the cause. I could use that to my advantage; use that to win him over in the future. I filed that piece of information away.

"See, it all started with the King," Russ continued. Damn, the man liked to talk. "King Lucius. Fitting name for a serpent like him. Had to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted, he did. But his son, now I have hopes for him. His son is the one you will shortly meet," he told me. I narrowed my eyes. It would take all of my willpower not to gouge the man's eyes out.

"Not that you can speak anyway," he snorted. He thought I was a mute. "But you might just be able to show him a thing or two."

Russ lifted himself off the floor and brushed himself off. He then extended a hand to me, which I blatantly ignored, not only because I was still tied but because I didn't want his aid.

"Come lass," he told me. "You're going to need as many friends as you can get in this place, now you've taken the Prince's eye."

I thought back to before the blackness and was able to remember a man shouting, amongst the ripping and tearing, for the soldiers to stop. Tall, muscular with brown hair and brown eyes, I presumed I had been saved by the Prince of this godforsaken army. I felt ill; I wanted to owe the monster nothing.

Ignoring the older soldier, I slowly and painfully lifted myself from the ground. It was difficult without hands, and I clenched my teeth as the world spun sickeningly, refusing to allow myself to pass out. Russ was watching me carefully with something like approval. When I finally could stand steady on my feet, he nodded his head once.

"Yes, I think you'll do just fine," he muttered. I glared at him coldly as he reached out to take my elbow, and jerked it back sharply.

"None of that now," he said. "Wouldn't want to stumble in front of the soldiers out there."

I very nearly opened my mouth to ask where we were going, but caught myself quickly. It might be advantageous if people thought I was mute; people were much more likely to spill their secrets in front of me. I decided for now to play along with the ruse and see where it carried me. Angling my head sharply in the other direction, I allowed Russ' rough hand to support my elbow, and carry me from my prison.

I had been right about the cart; attached to the back of two weary looking mules, it was small and rickety, looking as uncomfortable as it had felt. As Russ guided me through the camp, I took in my surroundings. We were in the Imperial camp; that much was certain. Smoke filled my nostrils and I flinched, the memories from earlier in the day returning. Dusk was falling as men in black hurried around, the cries of the wounded masked by the sounds of raucous laughter. Campfires and tents dotted the landscape, with weapons thrown askew, blood still coating them. The blood of my people.

I was immediately furious. My village, Andeep, was one of the few remaining in Ilore that had not been overrun by the forces of Thraln. Ilore and Thraln were neighbours, existing in peace for centuries. But recently, King Sergei Belikov of Thraln had grown bold. He had sent his armies, led by his son, Dimitri, into our nation, destroying and razing everything in their path. After the death of my mother when I was only fourteen summers, I had always known life would be hard. But nothing could have prepared me for the day that the forces of Thraln- the Imperials as they had become known- would have invaded my small, worthless world.

"Come, lass," Russ murmured through the red haze of my rage. "The time for revenge is not now. Come, the Prince awaits." Men were leering at me as Russ propelled me forward, and suddenly everything made sense. The only reason I was alive, the only reason I was here, was to pleasure the Prince. It must be hard, after all, for a man spending years on the battlefield to find company, and finally I guess he had seen something he liked in me.

Well, I'd be damned if I let that happen. As I stumbled through the jeers and ignored the hands reaching for me, I set my teeth. I'd be damned if I ever let myself become a plaything for a man whom had destroyed my world. The only important thing in my life, my Adrian, with his shining halo of hair and dreamy green eyes had left me to fight in this war; a war he had never returned from. The memory of his smile left a dull ache in my heart, renewing my hatred for the Prince. I would rather die than let him touch me.

It was obvious when we reached the tent of the royal. It was more ornate than the rest, with two guards clad entirely in black armour standing on watch, emotionless, in front of the only entrance flat. I hissed under my breath, ignoring the sharp glance of Russ. I was going to kill the man whom would one day be monarch.

"I have her," Russ said gruffly to one of the men. Gone was his soft tone now, replaced by coldness. This side of him I could understand; it was the side he had to present to the world to ensure his own survival. The man nodded under his helm, and grabbed me roughly from Russ.

"I've got her from here," he spat. Russ only nodded his head, placing his fingers against his right temple in a mock salute. As he was doing it however, his eyes flicked to mine, almost willing me forward as I was dragged, heels digging into the ground, into the tent.

My first impression was that it wasn't what I had expected. Far from the dull, lifeless living space I had expected, the Prince's living arrangements were actually luxurious. Soft furs lined the hard floor, with several plush bed rolls covering the central space. Candles lit the space with a gentle light, and against the western side a small desk was covered in maps and plans.

It was the man sitting behind the desk that both took my breath away and instilled in me a murderous rage, however. Still wearing his black armour from the day spent destroying my home, his broad shoulders strained underneath the weight of it. His shaggy dark brown hair was marred with dried blood, and his skin was lined with scars. I couldn't see his eyes, but already I knew that this man not only excited me, but terrified me.

My guard cleared his throat discretely. "My lord, the girl you requested," he said.

The prince was still for several moments, before he rose to his feet. He towered over me- I barely came to his shoulder- and I knew killing him would be harder than I had first thought. Everything about him was hard; his body, his expression, everything except his brown eyes, which reflected both curiosity and lust.

"Leave us," he commanded in a thick accent, and the guard immediately let go of my arm and turned to leave the tent.

Caught off guard without support, my wooziness finally got the better of me. I stumbled forward and would have fallen if not for the solid steel that pressed itself against me. I froze, a deer in a hunters trap.

"Damn," he cursed from above me. "You took a decent knock, didn't you?" Of course, I didn't reply, and he didn't seem to expect me to. The tension pulling my arms together disappeared, and I realised he had untied my wrists. I wanted to sigh and rub them, bringing the circulation back but I didn't. I couldn't afford to show any signs of weakness.

"A tough one too," he said. His voice was deep and gravelly, and I felt weak at the knees. I hated the man, but I couldn't deny he was attractive.

His finger was under my chin then, forcefully tilting my head up. I sharply turned my head to the left, but my head was immediately yanked back. I almost yelped.

"You will look at your Prince," he commanded me.

Prince my ass. I spat on the floor at his feet, closing my eyes. I knew what the action would cause, and so when the blow landed across my right cheek I was expecting it. My head, already injured from the blow Lloyd had landed on me couldn't take the hit, and the last thing I remembered was hands reaching for me before, once again, I was knocked out cold.

I wanted to scream at the pain throbbing through my head when I woke up, but my senses kept me from doing it. It was later- much later- and I felt like I had been thrown under a horse and trampled.

"Easy," a soothing voice said. I flinched away from the contact as cool fingers brushed my hair away from my eyes, knowing exactly who they belonged to.

"I'm sorry," Belikov said. Yeah, right. "It's been a trying day. I wouldn't usually hit a woman, and would never whilst she was injured as you are. You have my apology."

Childishly, I turned my eyes away from the Prince. I didn't want his pity- I wanted to hate him.

"From the look of you though, you've had a rough life. More scars than most of my men; on a woman it would surely be unattractive, but it suits you, my little warrior maiden." I hissed at him, rolling away from him. He reached out with one arm however, and gently lifted my head into his lap. For the first time, I noticed his armour was gone.

"I don't expect you to like me," Belikov told me. "I've taken you from your home and destroyed it. But I promise I won't harm you. I have a fondness for bravery, even if it is idiotic bravery like you demonstrated, trying to run from my men." He paused, not pushing me. I didn't move.

"But you, my dear, are exquisite. That beautiful long hair, those brown eyes, well, they drive a man wild. Do you have a name?" He asked me. When I didn't reply, he gently shook my head. "I said, do you have a name." His voice had lost its warmth.

I was faced with a choice. I could either deny the man what he wanted and potentially cause my own death, or I could play along and seize a chance later on. I decided that my death now would accomplish nothing. I nodded slowly, wincing at the throbbing pain.

"Are you literate?" he asked. Once again, I nodded.

The man reached across to the furs we were lying on, and pulled several layers back to reveal the dirt of the ground. "Write your name," he demanded.

My hands were shaking from the pain and adrenaline, but I managed to form the four letters. When it was done I collapsed, completely exhausted.

"Rose," he whispered. "It suits you."

Too tired to fight him anymore, I allowed my eyelids to flutter close. He seemed content enough to talk for the moment, so I relaxed just a little, not so worried about the idea of being forced to sleep with him.

"Rose," he tried again. "An exotic name for my land. Well my Rose, I will make it my mission to see that eventually you open the petals of your personality to me. You will come to like me, Rose, and when you come to like me we will do wonderful things together."

I snorted at that, already falling asleep. I couldn't help it- the events of the day were overbearing, and the furs were luxury compared to the hard ground I had become accustomed to. A small trickle of liquid rolled down my cheek as I remembered the ones I had lost; remembered Adrian. Not all of them had been good, but they were all I had. I could have sworn a calloused finger wiped the tear away from my eye, but as I drifted off I couldn't be entirely sure.

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><p>Hmm.. I enjoyed that, did you? Please, read and review; I would really love to hear your thoughts on this as for a long time it was a plotline I considered for my own story. Please let me know what you think!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone

Firstly, I'd like to apologise for the format of the first chapter; the site wont allow me to add spaces for some damn reason. I'll see what I can do. There seem to be some pretty good reviews coming through, so I'll do my best to get this chapter pumped out fast Really, thank you for the support; each hour I get more positive feedback! Thank you so much!

I do not own the characters, only the storyline.

Chapter 2

A rough hand on my shoulder shaking me ruthlessly was what woke me in the morning. It was so early that the sun had yet to rise, but I was used to it. I moaned before I could stop myself at the ache that ran through my head, down my neck and spine and through my shoulders. I'd been hit twice, and still I was being shaken. What was it with these people?

"Get up," a young woman was whispering fiercely. "Get up before the men come in!" I nearly spoke, but caught myself, remembering I was supposed to be mute. Instead, I opened my eyes and tilted my head inquisitively.

The girl would have been around my age, perhaps seventeen summers, with wispy ash blond hair and green eyes. She was very thin but also very pretty, with a delicate complexion and high cheekbones. Right now, however, she wasn't giving me much time to study her.

"Get up!" She hissed again, shaking me. I moaned and staggered to my feet, where she proceeded to tear my clothes from my body.

I almost shouted at the girl, but shoved her away instead. What the hell was she doing! It didn't seem to faze her though, and she was back again with those claws, attacking me. I gave up on trying to fight her advances, waiting until the onslaught was over. She yanked a dress- something plain yet softer than I had ever worn before over my head, and ripped a brush through my hair. I groaned again; the pressure on my scalp was unbelievable.

Finally, she seemed content.

"Good," she was muttering under her breath. "That should be enough to keep the Prince happy." I turned towards her, raising my eyebrows.

Relaxed now, the young woman smiled at me, a beautiful smile that lifted my depression slightly.

"We couldn't have you looking unkempt now, could we?" She asked. "Rose, that is your name?"

I nodded.

"Well Rose, you are very pretty," she told me. "My name is Vasilisa, and I am the Prince's hand servant. I keep his things, and now you, clean for him."

I was gobsmacked and angry. I was a thing? Ignoring her, I shoved her aside and stormed out of the tent flap. Instantly, I recognised two of the men crouched around a piece of parchment spread across the floor. Prince Belikov and Russell were seated next to one another, engaged in a heated discussion. They both looked tired but alert, concentrating hard on whatever they were doing. The third man, however, I had never met before. He was lanky with sandy blonde hair, and although his armour was black, it was lighter than the steel the others wore. I recognised him as one of the men whom had been guarding the tent the night before; I presumed he was some kind of soldier. He was staring into the distance as the other two argued, his hazel eyes lost in thought.

Upon my exit, all three men looked up. I stood staring stonily at them all, until Russ burst out laughing.

"Rose," he bit off between chuckles. "How appropriate! Imagine how those thorns hurt when you get close enough to touch them!" I raised my index and middle finger at him- a rude sign in my village- which he seemed to understand as he began to laugh even harder.

The prince still had his mask of concentration on, but one of the corners of his mouth was turned up. If I hadn't have known better, I would have thought he was smiling.

"Good morning, Rose," he said to me. His accent once again struck me; it was so strong that strangely, it was nice. "I trust you are feeling better?"

I looked at the ground then and nodded sharply, turning my cheek towards the men. It was meant to be a gesture of defiance, but came across as something entirely different as the men gasped.

"Dimka, what did you do?" the blonde haired man asked. It took me a while to understand what he was talking about, but as soon as I did I was ashamed. The mark that the Prince had left on me the night before must be clearly visible, and it shamed me to know a man had laid his hands on me in that way.

"Gods," Russell said, and I turned on my heel and marched back inside, face burning. I was embarrassed to be seen like this, wounded by a man. I was usually so strong; yet something about being here made me want to break down and cry.

Vasilisa was waiting in the tent, a grim expression on her face.

"Come," she told me gently, pulling me towards her. "Let's see what we can do to hide that mark now, yes?"

I could only nod my head and look at the ground as she applied some kind of paste to my cheek, sighing when it relieved some of the burning pain.

"It won't be pretty," she informed me, "but it will help you heal faster."

I nodded again, giving her a grateful smile. It was the first time I had smiled since… since I couldn't remember.

A deep voice interrupted our moment of shared compassion, causing the smile to slide right off of my face.

"Lissa, leave us," Belikov said.

"But your highness," Vasilisa began, standing in front of me.

"Lissa," he said warningly. "I won't ask again. Leave us." She sighed deeply, before doing something that shocked me completely. She stood and touched his arm.

"Don't hurt her again," she told him with disappointment in her tone. "She's been through a lot."

I was amazed that a woman was able to speak to him in such a way, let alone touch him. It was more amazing, however, that not only did he not hit her; he instead looked disheartened at her words.

As he approached me, I couldn't help but realise that now, with all of my mental faculties intact, there was no way I could defend myself against this man. I barely came up to his shoulder in height and he easily more than double my malnourished weight; if he wanted to kill me right here and now, no amount of struggling would save me.

As he stepped even closer, I shrank away from him. I was embarrassed by the movement, but I couldn't escape the image of his fist smashing into my face. I was used to violence by men, but it had never been a personal violence, and nobody had ever meant me serious harm. For the first time in my life, I felt genuine fear of a person.

"Rose," he said, crouching before me. I was sitting at the desk with my head turned away, and when his hand reached to touch my shoulder I flinched.

"Rose, look at me."

Not wanting to appear weak, I did. He hissed sharply, his intake of breath noticeable as he studied my face. Even I hadn't seen it, but I knew that a blow with the amount of force behind it that he had used was bound to mess me up. His fingers were gentle on my face, which surprised me.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "What brutes you must think we are."

I didn't reply- it was exactly what I thought.

"Kneel for me Rose," he said softly. "Kneel for me, pledge your allegiance, and I promise to never lay a hand on you again, as one of my subjects."

Huh. So he wasn't being nice at all- he was wearing me down. I looked up then, unafraid. Let him try to intimidate me- he wouldn't get very far. Let him hit me- I could take it. Let him rip me apart- I was already broken.

Instead of replying, I did what I had done to land me the first hit. I spat on the ground at his feet, meeting his eyes squarely. I wasn't another one of his weak subjects to be used as he wanted. I was stronger than that, and I was never going to be a citizen of Thraln. I was never going to live under this man. Adrian's green eyes flooded my mind, heightening my resolve. I would never dishonour him so by giving myself to the man that had caused his death.

Belikov said nothing, just watched me.

"Damn you," he drawled. Without another word, he stood and left the tent, my eyes following his every move.

"I'm sorry," Vasilisa was apologising. I sighed, knowing she had no hand in the order to retie my hands. I knew it was Belikov's intention to wear me down gradually until I caved, but I refused to give in. I had not had any water or food since my capture, but refused to allow this to slow me. Likewise, I didn't fight when Vasilisa, as gently as she could, tightened the ropes around my arms. They caused little discomfort for now, but I knew by nightfall I would be in agony again.

I was placed in a cart carrying the serving girls and women. It was hot and cramped, but they didn't seem to mind. There were very few travelling with the men, save those whom served as handmaids or nurses. They paid me very little attention, all gossiping amongst themselves. Vasilisa was the only one who seemed to pay me any mind, glancing over at me now and then from her position cleaning one of Belikov's tunics. It wasn't long before I was weak and dizzy again from exhaustion and dehydration, my head throbbing, and my vision began to blur.

"I don't care what he thinks," her soft voice hissed from behind me. "I won't let you die." Discretely, she slid a water skin underneath the folds of my dress, and disappeared again.

The water was cool and refreshing, instantly improving my disposition and illness. Although I couldn't thank Vasilisa without getting her in trouble, as the slow movement of the army proceeded on again, I caught her eye and smiled gratefully. She nodded her head in reply, her green eyes sparkling as she turned to engage an older nurse in conversation. Little did I know it then, but I had just formed a friendship that would be the greatest in my life.

"HALT!" The cry came during the afternoon, after the sun had reached the apex of the sky. I was warm and sweaty, my mind drifting off into sleep. Bolting upright, I was instantly alert, mentally berating myself for allowing my body to relax. The other women paid no attention to the call, but I was attentive, knowing we had barely left the province of Andeep. I shoved my way to the entrance of the cart and pressed my ear to the crack, listening intently.

"Stragglers," a man was saying. "From Andeep, I'd presume."

"Kill them," another voice said with boredom. "You know our orders."

I didn't hesitate. I smashed my shoulder into the cart door, unsurprised when it instantly gave way beneath me. It was old enough that the wood was probably rotting regardless. Ignoring the cries of the men, I tore off in the direction of the commotion, knowing that in their heavy armour the soldiers would never catch me. I cut the ties of my ropes on an upturned spike, and fled. Luckily for me, the men had been discovered at the end of the procession, very close to where the cart travelled. I might not be strong but I was very quick on my feet, flitting through the arms that reached for me. They had caught me once, but they weren't going to catch me again.

Moments later, however, I wished they had, for what I saw was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. A very familiar red-headed man was frantically fending off three men, his red freckles standing out in his pale, exhausted face. Behind him, another familiar blonde boy lay dead in the sand, his blood coating the grass.

Mason Ashford had been a friend since I was a child, and before I had met Adrian, had been my lover. He had belonged to one of the wealthier families of Andeep and son of Chief Samson, and so our class difference was prohibited, but he had always lent me a shoulder to cry on. He had been engaged to marry the lovely Angeline Dawes before our village was sacked. Jesse, the dead man had been a horrible person, but didn't deserve to die. I knew Mason and Jesse were good fighters, but they weren't good enough to cope with these men. As the thought crossed my mind and I began to run again towards my childhood friend, the blade of the Imperial sank deep into his chest, crimson liquid coating the blade.

Yet again, my world stopped. I couldn't hear, couldn't see, anything except Mason's cries as he fell to the ground clutching at the weapon. An inhuman scream of loss filled the air, and my legs carried me forward, not caring that I was tired or wounded. Men who tried to grab me failed as, filled with complete and utter despair, I fought and bit my way to Mason. When I reached him I fell to my knees, pressing my small hands to the gaping wound.

"Mase, Mase, Mase" I sobbed, finally showing emotion. "Mase, you're gonna be okay, come on." But no matter how hard I pressed, the blood kept coming.

"MASE!" I yelled, shaking his shoulders. "Come on! Wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open briefly, recognition lighting their blue colour.

"My Rose," he said tenderly. It must have taken all of his strength, but he reached his hand up to cradle my face. His blood wet my cheeks and the tears began to fall as I realised there was no way I could save this brave man.

"Rose, hold me." He whispered, and I understood. When we had escaped together for our stolen moments those years ago, Mason would place his head into my lap, letting me play with his unruly locks. 'Hold me,' he would say, closing his eyes and forgetting his responsibilities as the son of the Chief.

Tears clouding my vision, I shifted to place his head in my lap one last time, listening as his breaths came less and less often. The blood continued to pour onto me, staining my skin and dress, but I didn't care. I rocked him gently, sobbing his name over and over as his chest stopped falling and his body began to cool, cradling him as the blood flow stopped and his eyes stared glassily into mine, at peace with the world.

Eventually, somebody tried to pry me away from Mason. I screamed, the sound feral, and tore at the man until he retreated, cradling his hand. I knew men had crowded around me but I didn't care, planting a kiss on Mason's head and gently closing his eyes.

What I didn't see was the men standing around me, not bloodthirsty but shocked and remorseful. If I had have looked up I would have seen their uncertain glances and drooped shoulders, put down by the limitless pain of one whom had nothing left. I would have seen their confusion at my pain, their lifelong beliefs that Ilorians were feral and emotionless dispelled. I would have seen Russ arrive, take a step towards me before halting, bowing his head at my cries. I would have seen the tears streaming down Lissa's face as she watched on, helpless, and most of all I would have seen the Prince quietly arrive and dismount, staring with an expressionless face.

But I didn't see any of this, and the only thought I had was how monstrous these people were. Any chance they ever had of befriending me was now gone as I lumped all of them, the soldiers, women and royals alike, together as murderers. Eventually they tore me from him, kicking and screaming, removing his body from the ground. I could only hope they would give him a decent burial as, fighting, two men dragged me through the camp.

I realised then that I no longer cared what happened to me. Watching Mason be killed in front of me had broken some integral part of me, and I felt totally numb. I gave up all resistance and the men, caught off guard, nearly dropped me. They carried me into a very familiar tent that had been hastily erected, but I didn't fight. I had no emotions left to fight with.

They sat me down on the small chair I had been seated at only hours before and offered me something that I would have taken in an instant then- some water. Instead, I stared blankly ahead, ignoring their attempts to force me to drink. They soon tried to force the water into my mouth but I only spat it back at them, Mason's blood mixing with the liquid. They soon gave up and left me staring at the walls, placing the water skin next to me.

It wasn't long after that he arrived. Tall and regal, I could feel him watching me from the entrance of the tent but didn't acknowledge him, didn't even look at him. He could hit me, kick me, kill me, but nothing would break through the numbness inside of me. He didn't do any of these things however; instead, he crouched before me with a wet cloth and began to gently clean my face.

It was then that I began to fight him, yelling and punching him, intent only on causing him as much harm as I could. In my weakened state he was able to easily subdue me though, and held me to him as my ragged breaths turned into sobs once more.

"Shh," he told me as silent tears began to flow again. He wiped them away with the cloth as well, coming away with blood, tears and whatever other substance Lissa had put on my face that morning. Instead of quieting however, I tried to bite him, screaming at him unintelligibly. He took it all however, his brown eyes serious. Eventually he called for somebody, and a man entered with a needle in one hand which only made me more feral. Even I couldn't fight against the strength of the Prince, however, and the last thing I saw after the sharp jab was those brown eyes staring into mine, not full of anger or hatred, but instead full of remorse.

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><p>Gah! The formatting wont let me add paragraphs! please try and ignore it as much as you can; I know it's annoying but there is nothing i can do at the moment :. So what do you think so far? Please review if you can; two chapters in two days has been a big effort :). Thanks for the support guys!


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone! I probably won't update for a while because I have some uni assignments to finish (ugh) but I will do my best to bring you something soon!

I do not own VA, only this story.

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

"Changes everything," A deep voice was arguing, the buzz of his voice strangely familiar.

"Yes, but can we act so rashly?" Another mused.

"We must. We can't continue this war when everything we know is so wrong!" The sounds of a fist slamming into wood ripped me from my dream-like state, causing my eyes to flutter open in fear. My head was fuzzy and my eyes droopy; where was I?

It all came back to me in a rush, and I sat upright so fast that my ears rang. The Prince. Mason. The needle. I tried to fling myself out of the bed roll, but found I was stuck. Looking down, I realised why. My arms and legs were bound together loosely, preventing me from moving. I groaned in frustration and swore.

"Fuck."

"Such foul language for such a pretty girl," a voice said. I jumped, turning my head to the source of the voice. 

Prince Belikov sat loosely draped in his chair, looking more relaxed than I had ever seen him. He was dressed loosely in a dark blue tunic and pale breeches, his brown hair washed and combed. For the first time I realised how truly attractive he was, and had to stop myself from blushing furiously. A monster shouldn't be allowed to be so angelic.

"Better foul language than none," I retorted. My game was up; I knew that the men had all heard me crooning Mason's name the day before, and therefore there was no point remaining silent. Damn.

"True," he acknowledged, smirking. "I wouldn't have pinned you for a peasant girl though." I grinned at him, baring my teeth. My accent was pronounced compared to others in Andeep due to our class difference; I had never even been taught to read or write. I taught myself after my parents had died.

"How else do you think I got these scars?" I purred, my voice low. Let him see what he had messed with. He was quiet.

"Where are your parents?" He finally asked, his voice soft. "Is there anybody looking for you?"

"Ha," I scoffed, bitter. "My parents are dead. My partner is dead. And now, my best friend is dead. All because of you." I looked at him. "You killed them."

"No, I did not." He defended.

"Yes, you did." I countered. "Not directly, no. But they were murdered on your orders."

"Not mine," he said after a pause. "My father's".

"Pah," I laughed. "You're all the same. All so willing to believe that your way is the only way. Except you're wrong, you are the barbarians. Not us."

He changed the subject then, his eyebrows drawing together with a frown.

"How do you feel?"

"Shit, no thanks to you."

"Rose, I won't tolerate that vulgar language. That isn't how a woman should speak." I was disgusted.

"I'm not one of your women," I spat at him. "I'm not some girl you keep locked away to use when you please. I'll do what I want, and swear when I want."

"No, you won't," he told me seductively. Reaching his hand out, he yanked to my feet, ignoring me when I cried out.

"Whether you like it or not," he said, "You are one of my people now. And you better start acting like one."

'Like hell I am!" I yelled, ready for the blow I was sure would come.

What came though was much worse.  
>"Oh yes, you are," he grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "I would look at your arm if I were you."<p>

With dawning horror, I did as he asked. I cried then, a single tear streaming from the corner of my eye. 

I was branded. The red slave mark was surrounded by blackened skin, marking me with the royal seal of Thraln. I was marked as Belikov's, a servant for life, taken against my will. Falling to my knees, I closed my eyes and hung my head in despair. There was nothing left to live for now; I could either try to kill him, or claim my own life, or do both.

I chose the latter. My arms and legs were tied, but in my rage I threw my body at the sword leaning against the tent flap. He was faster though, and caught me before I could reach the blade.

"I thought you might try something like that," he said grimly. He turned me around and shook me, my teeth rattling. His eyes were on fire, his mouth grim. "And that's exactly why you are mine. See, if you killed somebody or somebody killed you as a peasant, nobody would care to exact revenge. But if something happened to you as my charge, well, it would fall to me to see to your punishment," he told me coldly. I couldn't keep up with the man; one moment he was compassionate, the next cold and calculating.

"Beginning now, you will take over Vasilisa's role as my personal servant. You will tend to me, clean for me, and provide for me when I wish it. If you don't, I will punish you as I would punish one of my own. Do you understand?"

In reply, I hissed at him and tried to bite his hands. He cursed and shoved me against the wall, slamming my head. Still wounded, I saw stars.

"Don't make me hurt you, my Roza," he whispered in my ear. "I like you, and it would be a shame to see anything happen to you." He released me, letting my body slide to the ground. Through the haze of pain, I realised I had been redressed into a plain linen shift.

"There is food on the table," he said shortly. "Vasilisa will be here shortly to dress and prepare you. Ensure you do not mess up," he warned, and with that he was gone. 

Lost, alone and enslaved, I did the only thing I could. I sat on the floor and cried, and that is where the maid found me when she entered moments later.

"Oh dear," she murmured, coming to raise me to my feet and undo my ties. "What has he done now?" It didn't escape my notice that she was being awfully gentle with me, even gentler than her usual self. I raised the sleeve of the shift, watching as her pity turned to abject horror.

"What has he done?" She gasped. "Even I am not branded! What has he done to you?" Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel to storm out.

"Vasilisa, stop." I told her morosely. She paused, considering my words.

"It's Lissa," she told me shortly, helping me out of the linen and into a new, dark black dress. I was pleased with the colour choice even if I had to wear a dress; I would fit in with them as I slit their throats.

"How long have you been serving the prince?" I asked as she combed my hair back, twisting it into an elegant bun.

"Who, Dimitri?" She asked, deep in concentration.

"Yes, the Prince," I clarified. To me, giving him a name would mean accepting that he was even a person. He wasn't- he was a monster.

"Since I was thirteen," she told me. "My parents were killed in a raid, and Dimitri took me in. I look after him and he looks after me- it's a mutual agreement."

"I'm sorry," I told her awkwardly.

"Don't be sorry!" she exclaimed, turning my face to study my cheek. "I barely knew them. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, unlike you."

"Both my parents died when I was young too," I told her. I trusted her.

"Is that how you got the scars?" She asked curiously.

"No," I told her truthfully. "They came… after."

"How?" She was applying the soothing balm to my face again.

"It was hard growing up as a street urchin in a world of men. I had to learn to defend myself from their marks."

"And now that brute has scarred you," she said softly. I nodded, unable to speak. "Rose, I'm sure he wouldn't have done it if he had have known."

"Oh, he would have done it," I spat bitterly. "He wanted me as his property to do with as he wished. He told me himself."

Lissa was quiet for several moments.

"I'm going to have a word with that man," she muttered to herself, before changing the subject abruptly.

"Okay, follow me and watch what I do." 

Throughout the course of the day I learnt how to complete many menial tasks I had never experienced growing up without a home. How to erect a tent, how to clean clothes properly with soap and how to prepare a bath were some of my lessons. I learnt to air out the bed rolls and furs of the tent, and how to wax and polish the wood of the desk and chair to perfection. Lissa then taught me more personal things, like how to plait my hair into a neat braid, how to lace myself into dresses and how to apply creams and balms to my face both for healing and enhancement. I still had not eaten when the sun began to sink into the horizon, however, and was feeling especially weak when the Prince returned as darkness descended, clearly intoxicated.

"Roza, my Roza," he jeered, veering towards me in the dark as I waited for him. Afraid, I stepped back into the tent and turned away.

"Don't be like that Roza," he laughed. Another man followed us into the tent, a man with dark hair and cruel eyes.

"Ralf, look at my Roza," Belikov crooned. "Isn't she just perfect?" I was weak and stumbled from hunger, but he didn't notice.

"Hmm," the man said, narrowing his eyes at me. "She's as pretty as a Rose, but I'll need to see more of her to really tell." He reached for me and, ignoring my protests, began to pull the dress from my shoulders.

"Now, Ralf," the Prince said uneasily. "There's no need for that."

"Come on Belikov," Ralf replied. "She's your slave- what are slaves for?" He ripped the dress then, and I slapped him, the sound echoing throughout the confined space.

"You little bitch," he hissed, grabbing me by the hair and hurling me to the ground. I screamed in pain as he followed it with a harsh kick to the ribs, only stopping when the Prince pulled him off of me.

"Ralf, stop!" Belikov was urging, not even sparing a glance for me. As he argued with his drunken friend I crawled to the entrance of the tent, clutching at my ribs.

The laughter of drunken men whom had been given a day off was the first thing that met my ears, and I realised I wasn't safe here. Using the shadows of the tent to hide me I disappeared around the back of the camp, staggering through the camp until I reached the open forest. Here, I dropped to my knees and threw up the little water I had swallowed that day. My ribs were on fire and my head throbbed, and I knew if I didn't seek help soon I would be in very bad shape.

The old Rose would have found any way possible to escape, to survive. This Rose however, weakened with the pain of hunger, thirst and wounds had no such willpower. I was a slave, and I was alone. There was no way I was ever going to be able to kill the Prince, let alone the King, and I looked forward to spending the rest of my days serving the men I hated.

So I did something I had never done before, not once in my life. Not when my parents were killed, not when I lost Adrian, not ever.

I gave up. 

"Rose! Rose, wake up. Please Rose, wake up!" The pleading in my ears interrupted the vigil I had kept on myself as I slipped closer to death, willing my body to give up. I knew it was Lissa but I didn't care; nothing mattered any more.

"Eddie!" She screamed above me. "Eddie, I've found her!"

"Gods," a deep voice rumbled from above me. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know, and I don't care!" Lissa cried, hysterical. "Pick her up and get her back to camp now; she's dying!"

"I can see that Liss," the man retorted. Numb, I felt my body being lifted gently by strong, warm arms. "Belikov has a lot to answer for."

"Oh yes, he does," Lissa yelled. I could hear the shouts and sounds of the Imperial army growing closer but I didn't care.

The man carrying me stumbled, and I whimpered as the movement jostled my injured ribs. He cursed under his breath, muttering words I couldn't quite catch.

"I think she has some broken ribs," he finally called to Lissa. I heard her gasp sharply and pause, but we continued moving. Around us, men were stopping to stare but I couldn't bring myself to care. Let them all see what they had done to me. Let them suffer.

When we entered the tent I had come to hate however, I began to stir. My adrenaline was pumping and my body readying itself to fight. That is what Belikov had done to me. After only two days, I was broken. 

SMACK.

The sound echoed inside the space just as it had the night before. I didn't have the energy to see who had hit who, but I figured I knew. Soon enough, it was confirmed.

"You pig!" Lissa shouted, slapping the person again.

"Ouch Lissa, stop it!" Belikov moaned. "My head hurts."

"I don't care if your head hurts!" She screamed. "Because Rose hurts a damn lot more than you do right now!"

"Rose?" Belikov's voice was slurred and confused. I guess he had just awoken. "Rose left last night didn't she?"

"Did she leave?" Lissa asked furiously, "Or was she escaping you?"

I could hear the Prince moving around now, running his hands through his hair.

"Christ," he muttered. "What happened last night?"

"You tell me," Lissa said scornfully, moving to reveal my figure to him.

"Shit!" Belikov yelled, moving towards me. I flinched away from him and the man carrying me tightened his arms almost protectively.

"Don't you touch her," Lissa commanded. "Don't you dare lay another finger on her."

"Eddie," Belikov said, ignoring her. "Please, pass her to me."

I clung to the man tighter, my hands gripping his arms as tightly as I was capable of.

"Your highness," Edison began, "with all due respect-"

"Edison, pass her to me now," the Prince interjected dangerously.

"Dimitri," Eddie tried once more, "I don't think that's-"

"Soldier, pass the girl to me now!" He demanded, all pretence of civility gone. "That is an order, Castile!"

"Yes, my lord." Eddie finally conceded. Reluctantly, despite my clawing grip, he handed me over.

Lissa stood next to us, watching the Prince with a furious expression. "Lissa, please bring water, food and bandages," Belikov asked. When she refused to move, he turned on her.

"Look," he said, allowing emotion to seep into his tone. "Can't you see I won't hurt her?"

"I thought I saw that first," Lissa retorted. "But clearly, I was wrong."

Nonetheless, she left us.

"Eddie, please find a nurse," Belikov asked softly. "She needs it."

Eddie paused before nodding his head. "Okay." 

And that left us alone. I was warm in his arms, and I felt my eyes begin to roll back into my head.

"No, Roza," Dimitri told me gently, tapping the sides of my face. "You can't sleep yet."

I didn't have the energy to answer him, just lay there as he sat on the furs and cradled me in his lap.

"You know, I've never known how this feels," he finally said. "I understand wanting to help people, but I don't understand the feeling I feel when I see you like this. So… broken. I think, I think it might be called shame." He paused, obviously not expecting a reply.

"From when I first saw you I knew I needed you, more than I've ever needed a woman. It's funny, don't you think, that I can have any woman I want and the one I do hates me?" He laughed humourlessly. "But I can understand that. I've taken everything from you; how could you ever look at me with anything but hatred?"

It was then that the arrival of Eddie and Lissa with a third woman caused him to stop. It was almost as of other people made him into the monster, and the man only existed in the moments of privacy he had.

"Move," the older woman told Belikov roughly, removing his hands from my head. She looked at my eyelids and felt my forehead, tenderly probed my cheek and checked the colouring inside my mouth. I didn't make a sound until her hands moved to press against my ribs, where I yelped.

"Severe dehydration and malnutrition," she muttered. "Probably concussed and almost definite broken ribs." She paused, looking up. "I can give her fluids and bandage her up, but she needs time to heal," she said to Belikov sternly. "No work, and definitely no sudden movements."

"We are travelling back to Verex regardless," Belikov muttered. "It will be a slow trip."

"What?" I croaked, opening my eyes to a slit. "No!"

Verex was the capital of Thraln, the city in which the royals resided. I had thought it was where I wanted to go now, thought it had been where I would finally end everything. But I was so tired that I just wanted to sink into nothing.

The prince ignored me. "Very well, Glenda." He said resolutely. "Thank you. You may leave now."

"Dimitri," Lissa said when she had left. "How are you going to take care of her?"

"She's my slave," he returned. "I'll look after her however I deem fit."

"No, you won't." Lissa countered. "Look at her! She didn't deserve this!"

"Does anyone deserve anything!?" The prince roared. "Does anyone deserve to be killed at the hand of another? Do I deserve to live with knowing I have ended so many lives?"

"Dimitri," Lissa tried.

"Please just leave us Vasilisa," he finally said. 

"We leave early tomorrow," The Prince told me when Lissa reluctantly left the tent. "Try and… rest."

I didn't have any words for him, and allowed the blackness to claim me at last. 

"Roza, I need you to drink this."

My eyes opened to pre-dawn light creeping into the tent. Belikov was leaning over me, a water skin in his hand.

"I'm not thirsty," I told him, my voice cracking.

"You need to drink," he asserted. "It has some medicine in it to help you feel better."

"No," I protested.

"Roza, you will do as I command," he demanded threateningly.

Deciding it wasn't worth the struggle, I opened my dry lips, almost moaning when the cool liquid flowed down my parched throat. I was on fire, but the cooling sensation helped to clear my head.

"And this," he told me. In his other hand he was holding a small piece of bread.

"No," I protested half-heartedly. I knew I was going to lose this battle.

"It's only something small," he said coercively. "Anything more and you'll throw it up."

And so I chewed on the bread, it tasting like cardboard in my mouth.

"Good," he finally conceded. "Lissa will dress you and then we leave."

Lissa was silent as she pulled a button up blouse over my shoulders.

"Easy," she soothed as I hissed.

"I can't ride in that cart today," I mumbled groggily to her, still woozy from sleep and the medication I had been given.

"And you won't be," she told me, subdued. "You're riding with Dimitri."

Minutes later as men all around us rolled up sleeping rolls and scuffed out fires, I was lifted by large hands onto a large stallion.

"This is Nate," Belikov told me. "He looks like a devil, but really he's a gentleman. He won't let you fall."

"What are you doing?" I asked as the Prince climbed up behind me.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" He chuckled. "You have to rest, and you won't be able to do that in the cart with the women."

"So why am I here?"

"You're riding with me," he said simply. He wrapped a black cloak around my shoulders and nestled me between his arms. I had to admit, it was much more comfortable than being on the hard floors of the cart.

"This way, I can make sure that that what is mine remains mine."

Great. I scoffed at him, ignoring his laugh as he said it. I guess it was too much to ask that he actually treat me like a human for once.

"I hate you." I told him bitterly. I meant it; I might not want to kill him at the moment, but I hated the bastard with all of my heart.

"I know," he said cheerfully. "But you won't forever."

"Yes, I will," I grumbled.

"No, you won't Roza," he whispered in my ear. "You and I, we are stuck together now whether we like it or not. But I can promise you, eventually you will like it. If it is the last thing I do, I will make sure you come to like the time we spend together."

As his manservants packed his items and the army around us began to move, I realised something. With Russ guarding our left and Eddie to our right, in a roundabout way I had more company now than I ever had before. The thought was bittersweet; there were more people concerned about my welfare now than in my own home, and that thought had me thinking long after the sun rose and we left the province I once called home behind.

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><p>And there we are. Please, what do you think? Where would you like this story to go? Please review and keep reading; the support has been amazing; thank you everybody!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Hey everyone, firstly thank you so much for the support of this story, it's really been amazing.

Just to answer a question first, Raissa20 I hope this chapter makes it clearer to you why i've painted Dimitri this way, remember i havent set this story in the world of VA so in this world the King is the brute and Dimitri has not only grown up around this guy but has to not antagonise him.

I have a bit of a longer chapter here for you now, it gets the story to the place I want it to be so please enjoy :)I do not own VA.

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

"Finally."

The word resonated in my ears as I opened my eyes. The past few days had been spent doing little but snoozing in the Prince's warm arms as my body tried to heal itself. It seemed that with every passing day I became sorer; however I was more alert and lively. The landscape around us had changed from the beautiful lush greens of my homeland into an increasingly dead and arid environment; it dampened my spirits to such an extent that I felt little energy for anything.

"Finally what," I grumbled, annoyed. The mark on my arm was still stinging in the heat of the days as sweat rolled down my arms, and I couldn't summon up anything but anger towards my captive.

"Finally, we are safe."

"Safe?" I scoffed. "That's not the word I would usually associate with an army this size or anything."

"Hush, Roza," he told me. "We have passed into my homeland."

When I had imagined adventures as a little girl, I had envisioned endless blue skies and seas stretching beyond the horizon. I had imagined sunny days of vibrant colour and the amazement that came with exploring new lands. I had never thought, as I stared around at the dull landscape complete with dead trees and hard soil, that when I went on an adventure it would look like this.

"Ah lass," Russ said from my left. "I understand that look well enough. It's a harsh world we live in."

"You do not like my home?" Belikov asked, his deep voice curious.

"Everything is so dead," I told him honestly.

"How so?"

"My home," I began, and paused, overcome with homesickness. I had never had anything tying me to Andeep, but nonetheless it was all I had known. "My home, in the spring it is so vibrant. The hills are painted green and wildflowers of all different colours burst from everywhere; the paths, the plains, even the cracks in the floor of your house." I stopped, aware of a small audience listening to me.

"It sounds beautiful," Eddie encouraged. Out of all of the men here, Russ and Eddie had become my anchors. Eddie in particular I had come to realise was a gentle giant, and beneath his tough exterior was a soft man who hated conflict and wanted nothing more than to settle down with a girl called Jill he had left in his hometown. I didn't feel stupid or lesser when I talked to Eddie; rank mattered little to him.

"It was," I said, my voice cracking. "Before mother… before everything happened, I would wake as early as I could in the morning just to see if the rains had come. If they did, every day after I would look at the hills to see if the flowers had come. I loved the flowers," I said wistfully.

"Alas, there's no flowers in this hell," Russ told me sadly. "There's nothing here but sand, dirt and rock."

"There are no flowers left in Andeep either," I told him, looking directly into his eyes. No matter how fond I became of him, I still couldn't shake the reminder that this man had been part of the force that tore everything from me. "The morning before the Imperials came," I spat, making the word sound dirty, "Red flowers dotted the hills. I remember admiring them, their vibrancy. But now, not only have the flowers been burned, but the red I see is blood."

They grew silent after that, occupied with their thoughts. But I could have sworn that slightly, ever so slightly, I felt Belikov's arms tighten around me.

The night camp had become a ritual for me. I was still unable to perform many basic tasks, so I would sit with Lissa whilst she helped erect the tents and fitted Belikov's space out, bringing a fresh bucket of water for him to wash and starting the fires that would cook the food. The food was very basic unlike the rich spices Andeep had used; dried fruits and whatever game could be caught for the most part was what the army ate. I, as a slave, was required to wait until the men had eaten, but usually one of the men, either Russell or Eddie, would bring Lissa and I a bowl each to limit our hunger. I hated what I had become but I had little choice. I was a slave.

I had also discovered over the course of the journey that the Prince had other plans for me when we arrived at his court. With Lissa already his maid, my official role would be to act as a courtesan to the Prince, and tend to many of his other needs. I was absolutely horrified by this and Belikov knew it, demonstrated when he laughed outright at the disgusted expression on my face. He told me again then that I would one day beg for his bed, and my role would not seem so frightening then.

I had taken to sleeping in a small lean-to outside of Belikov's pavilion, which suited me just fine. I had no desire to sleep in the same space or bed as him, and I had the freedom to move around without invoking his anger. I seethed inside with rage when I thought about how little my life had come to mean now, but I couldn't foresee a way out until we reached the court at least.

"Roza."

The purr of the Prince's voice buzzed in my ears as I tried to sleep that night. The unfamiliar hot, sticky air made it all but impossible however, and I found myself tossing and turning, hissing with the pain of my ribs every few moments. I had not seen Ralph since the incident, and from what I had heard I wouldn't be any time soon; Belikov had sent him and several others, including Lloyd, ahead to the palace to prepare for our arrival. I was still unsure as to why Belikov was returning the army to Thraln so soon, but it wasn't my place as a slave to ask.

"What?" I groaned, annoyed.

"Can you not sleep?" He asked, sounding amused.

"Not in this godforsaken place."

"Come, speak with me." I was taken aback by the offer; the only contact we had retained since he had woken up drunk was a few words exchanged as I travelled with him during the day.

"Why would you want to speak with a slave?" I asked, suddenly close to tears. "I mean nothing to you anyway."

"Do you think you would still be here if you meant nothing to me?" He asked, sounding serious.

"You seem to like to play with people," I told him, rolling into my bedroll.

The next thing I knew, Belikov had folded himself gracefully onto the ground next to me. His long limbs seemed to fit perfectly on his frame, giving him elegance unmatched by almost any other. I felt a small pang of despair. There was no way a man like this would spare my life, not when so many others were so much more perfect than I.

"It seems like forever since I have had company," he told me. "Not company in the kind you're thinking- Company in the form of companionship. Everybody wants something from me; my power, my body, my riches. But you, you don't seem to have any expectations of me."

I laughed softly then, but without humour.

"Oh, I have expectations," I told him. "But none of them are good."

"What do you mean?" He asked. He had turned his face towards me now, his brown eyes shining in the flickering light of the fire.

"You're a monster," I told him, looking away. "You take what isn't yours for no good reason and tear lives apart for no just cause."

"Monster is a strong word," he replied.

"It is accurate," I said.

Belikov lapsed into silence and I stared around at the countryside, overcome with pangs of loneliness. There was nobody left in the world for me anymore, I was in a strange place with murderers and I was enslaved. I could feel the pressure building in my eyes but I refused to cry. He would never get to see that.

"Tell me about your family," he finally said. "Your face softens when you speak of them."

"I was an only child," I began, feeling the need to at least let him know what I had lost. "But that didn't mean I was lonely. My parents were farmers and were poor, and my mother and I had to learn to defend ourselves against not only wild animals but other men."

"Other men?" Belikov interjected.

"Yes, other men. Father was in the fields much of the time and we were alone."

"What did your mother look like?"

"She was beautiful," I told him. "Her hair was so red you would think it was on fire. If you could capture the colour of the sunset, you would still not find a colour as beautiful as her hair."

"What happened to her?" He asked after a pause.

"That is none of your business," I told him fiercely.

"I apologise," he backpedalled. "It was wrong of me to ask."

I didn't speak again after that, and soon he rose to his feet. Before he returned inside however, he reached down to gently touch my hair. I wasn't sure what surprised me more; the fact that he was so tender, or the fact that I hadn't flinched away from his touch. The thought kept me quietly occupied as the days rolled by in our usual silence, interrupted only by the tense anticipation of men whom hadn't seen their homes in years.

"Roza," Belikov called to me several days later. We had passed through the first small town on the outskirts of Verex, a place called Zarat. The women wore headscarfs and stared at us with shrouded eyes, whilst the men cheered for the return of the Prince. I could see signs of suffering in all of these people; from the young boys whose eyes were haunted already, to the women who stared up the road, hoping to see the return of their loved ones. It wasn't the first time I had wondered what the war against my people was really hoping to achieve.

"Roza, we are in my kingdom now."

"Yeah, I got that," I snapped at him.

"And that means," he continued, ignoring my outburst, "that you will behave as a woman of my lands would."

"Like hell," I told him brusquely. Next to us, I could hear Russell chuckling quietly.

"Roza, you bear my mark now."

"Not willingly," I interjected, now aware that Eddie too was hiding a smile.

"But you do, and therefore you will behave as I see fit, or I will be forced to punish you."

"Good luck my lord," Russell laughed now. "That one is a firecracker."

"Firecracker or not," Belikov told me in complete seriousness. "The type of behaviour you have been displaying has been inappropriate for a woman of Thraln. You will do as I say and only speak when spoken to."

"You can shove your rules up your ass," I told him earnestly. "I am not one of your people and I will never do as you say."

"Well then I can have no mercy on you," he told me, flicking his eyes towards the road again.

I shrugged, knowing that he could try but would die before he broke me. I was not going to bow to him, not now and not ever.

It seemed like only hours later that the magnificent palace was in front of us, so majestic that even I had to stifle a gasp. Verex was built into a mountain, and the view of Verex from the rocky plains of Thraln was amazing; the tall walls surrounding the village could be seen, as the castle carved into the mountain watched over it. Epic spiral towers reached into the sky as impenetrable walls secured the insides and the royals; I felt both excitement and trepidation at that, knowing that it would be very hard to escape once I was inside them.

The chatter of the men increased as the army soon saw what we, leading the procession had. Some cheered and others cried, but Belikov only uttered one emotionless word.

"Home."

The streets of the capital were lined with cheers, women leaping into the arms of their loves and children crying as they hugged the legs of their fathers. People everywhere bowed to the Prince, and more than a little looked curiously at me, the woman hidden under a cloak in the prince's arms. Despite the celebrations however, the ravages of war were everywhere; beggars crouched in the streets, women sobbed upon realising they had lost their partner, and there was no colour to the city; it was like it was dried out. I closed my eyes, suddenly sickened by the sight. How could the King justify a war that tore his own people apart?

"Prince Dimitri," A breathless man riding a white stallion cantered up to us, his voice wheezy. "Prince Dimitri, your Father the King requests your presence in the throne room at once!"

Belikov sighed above me. "Tell the men to go home," he told Eddie wearily. "Tell them to take the day off, get themselves a drink and reacquaint themselves with their loved ones. God knows when we leave again."

"Yes my lord." I was surprised at how different their interactions were now compared to on the road; Belikov was acting like he barely knew Eddie at all, even though he was his second-in-command.

"My lord," Eddie asked respectfully, "What about the girl?"

I was startled to realise Eddie was speaking about me. Even though I still blamed him for the razing of Andeep, I had thought we had formed a kind of understanding. Apparently I was wrong.

"Eddie, don't you dare," I began indignantly, but was hushed suddenly by a backhand to the cheek.

"Silence, slave." Belikov told me coldly, no emotion in his tone. "You will speak when spoken to."

I was so shocked and humiliated that I had no reply, and merely put a hand to my stinging cheek. I could see Russell frown and begin to open his mouth, but he closed it again just as quickly.

"The girl comes with me," he told Eddie. "Tell my maid to attend to my rooms immediately."

"Yes, your highness," he replied, bowing his head before riding off.

I was silent all the way to the castle, not even interested in taking in the new sights and experiences. Instead I huddled into my cloak, more confused and upset than ever. This was the life of a slave, I realised. A life of abuse and punishment; a life of abeyance and work. When Belikov dismounted and roughly pulled me down behind him I stumbled, still dazed, but he didn't even glance at me.

"Girl, take my bags and hurry," he demanded sternly. "I will not wait for you."

He strode away then, his long legs carrying him faster than I could keep up. Taking his bags made my ribs scream in agony and I stumbled, falling to my knees.

The next thing I knew, Belikov was raising me by my hair, ignoring my cries.

"I told you to keep up," he growled, shaking me. My ribs screamed and I sobbed, curling into myself to minimise the pain.

"Now move," he said, throwing me abruptly to the ground. This time I gritted my teeth and did as he said; I needed to preserve my strength as much as I could.

The palace was grand and majestic, but I barely had time to take this in as the Prince strode down the marbled floors, the heels of his boots clicking in the tall hallways. I was panting heavily and sweating by the time we reached the entrance to an intricate doorway, ceiling high and as wide as a cart. Without knocking, Belikov shoved opened the doors and grabbed my arm, marching me down the plush carpets to the end of a room- a room in which a man sat upon a golden throne.

King Sergei Belikov of Thraln was both more and less than I had expected. His brown eyes, cold and calculating, displayed an unmatched cruelness I had never before witnessed even after the brutality of the Imperials. He was a classically handsome man, tall with Belikov's chiselled face and high cheekbones, and was dressed opulently in extravagant robes with a golden crown resting upon his head. Yet somehow, I had expected more. I had expected him to be more of a human as a king, a little more warm and inviting. But the first impressions I received from the King was that he had none of this within him at all; he was even more of a monster than his son.

"Dimitri," he greeted, standing tall and widely opening his arms to his son. I noticed that even though his mouth smiled, no warmth reached his eyes. "My son. How good it is to have you home."

"Father," Belikov bowed, stiffly greeting the King. It didn't escape my notice that even though he declared his fealty, there was no respect or care behind the gesture.

"And who might this lovely lady be?" The King asked, turning his shrewd eyes upon me.

Completely forgetting Belikov's words, I raised my head and glared directly into the King's eyes.

"My name is Rose," I told him forcefully, before I was sent sprawling into the ground.

"A peasant I picked up in Andeep," the Prince explained after he had cleaned his boot on the carpet, as if the filth of me was too great. "She is amusing to me."

"Oh yes," the King agreed, studying me closely. "She certainly does appeal to a man, doesn't she? Women aren't created like that around here."

"I plan to keep her as my courtesan," he informed the King loftily. "Lord knows she's better than half of the women in this court."

"True, true," the King agreed coldly. "I approve Dimitri- it will prevent you from declaring any allegiances to proper women also. Just keep her tame," he warned.

"Oh, I shall Father," Belikov said with indifference. "I will make a good lady of her yet."

I didn't understand the inside joke, but the King laughed loudly at this.

"Very well, Dimitri." The man told him. "We must speak. Send the slave away."

"As you wish," Dimitri bowed, turning towards me.

"You will await me outside of this chamber," he told me, his accent pronounced. With my body crying at me all I could do was nod my head and scramble for the door, ignoring the King's snickers behind me. I burned with rage as I walked away, my face going red with shame. How on earth was it okay to treat people like this? I was going to have a few words with Belikov later, and they weren't going to be nice.

"Oh, who are you?"

A new voice interrupted my reverie, curious but offhand. Turning my head, my eyes met those of a girl around my own age, dressed in beautiful silks and with gems gleaming from her ears and neck. Her face, round and pretty, was made up with a variety of paints and powders, and to me she resembled a little porcelain doll.

"Who's asking?" I demanded. This girl looked so different to the kinds of girls I knew; she was thin, pale and her hair was a wispy blonde.

"You have spunk," she admired. "I like that."

She extended her hand to me, encased in a white glove.

"I'm Mia," she told me. "Mia Rinaldi. I'm the courtesan of the Court. The only one," she paused, annoyed expression on her face, "That is half decent."

I was astounded that she admitted this so easily.

"You seem proud of that," I told her honestly.

"I am," she smiled. "You see, courtesans in this Court are lucky. I mean, a life of servitude or this?"

"That's an interesting way to see it."

Raised voices interrupted our discussion, and the next second Belikov burst through the doors.

"You," he pointed at me, "come with me."

"Prince Dimitri," Mia purred, wrapping herself around his arm. "It's been too long. Don't you look all rugged and dashing?"

"I'm not in the mood Mia," he told her shortly. I fought back a wave of jealousy.

"Tonight, perhaps? I could sneak into your bedchamber like I used to?"

"I don't need that any more Mia," he told her. "That is what this lovely lady is for."

"Ohhh," Mia sighed, her eyes alight with curiosity. "I'm sure Natasha Ozera is going to be so very pleased when she finds you've taken a concubine."

"She's not my concubine," Belikov said. "But Ozera has no influence on me."

"Oh don't be daft, my Prince," she laughed. "Everyone knows the designs that girl has on you."

"I don't care," he told her. "Come, Roza."

"Roza, hmm?" she called after me. "Well, I think we will be very good friends Roza."

I was still so angry and upset with the man stalking down the halls that I didn't say a word to him, even as the pain in my chest grew greater. He seemed to walk forever, but the further we travelled the more opulent the furnishings became. Great crystal chandeliers lit the halls, with magnificent paintings decorating the dreary stone walls. Even the walls of the stone tower Belikov led me up were furnished with intricate torches, hand carved and beautiful. I was at a loss; it was all too much.

Finally, Belikov heaved open a single stone door at the top of the tower.

"My rooms," he told me roughly, not holding the door open for me.

When I finally got the heavy door open, I stared around in wonder. Compared to the opulent wealth of the rest of the castle, Belikov's rooms were a breath of fresh air. It was more like a little secluded house, with a grand bedroom, a second, smaller room, a bathing room, a sitting room and a study. His furnishings were luxurious but sparse, the greatest decoration a tapestry behind his large bed that depicted a young man with four women seated around him. I realised with a pang that what I was staring at was a young Belikov, with his sisters and mother. I turned away, the image tearing at my own heart.

"You will sleep in there," Belikov told me, pointing to the small room beside the entrance to his own. "I expect to be attended to whenever I have the need. You will keep these rooms and run errands for me, as well as attend to me in my bedchamber when I wish it. Do you understand?"

"No," I told him.

He paused, turning around slowly. "What did you say?" Hs brown eyes were glinting dangerously.

"I said no. I won't be a walking slave."

"That's what you are now," he said warningly.

"Not by choice."

Suddenly he rushed forward and I instinctively raised my hands to protect my face from his onslaught. It never came though.

Instead, Belikov was leaning over me, breathing heavily.

"You are afraid of me?" He asked in between breaths.

"No," I said defiantly.

"Yes, you are." He grabbed me by the arms and spun me around, and finally I cried out, grasping my torso.

"You must understand," he told me, undoing the buttons on the back of my dress as I trembled. "That here at Court, I cannot show mercy. It may give somebody an opportunity to find a weakness, or worse, assume by hurting you that it would hurt me."

He hissed then, running his hands along my shoulders. "I am sorry I hurt you," he said.

"Well then why do it?" I asked, my eyes heavy. "Why be the monster they say you are?"

"Because I have no choice," he roared, making me jump. "Because I must protect the ones I care for."

"Like your mother?" I asked, glancing at the tapestry.

"Like everyone," he informed me. "Any woman I get close to dies. I must be seen to have no personal attachment to any."

"And how does harming a woman, weaker and lesser than you, make that work?" I rounded on him, furious. "That's not being uncaring; that's being a tyrant."

"It's what he wants," he told me weakly, sinking into his bed. "And until he is gone, I can't change a thing."

Belikov drifted off shortly after that, exhausted and stressed. Unsure of what I was meant to do, I closed the drapes to his windows and removed his boots before retiring to my own chamber. It was growing dark outside, and as I stared out of the window at the starless night I felt despair. It was all too tempting to throw myself from this window and let it all be over, but somehow I knew that doing that would be pointless. There was clearly more to Belikov than I had first thought, and I was determined to unlock his secrets before I killed him.

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><p>So, what do you think? Rose is in Dimitri's castle now; will things between them get better or worse? And what about Sergei? Please review and let me know what you think!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone!

I had a day off today so took the time to write two chapters, I hope it keeps you going if i don't update for a little while. Please keep reviewing; so far you have been amazing about it, and the support for this has been awesome! Thank you so so much!

I do not own VA, only this story

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><p>CHAPTER 5<p>

"Rose, wake up."

For the second time in a week, I groggily opened my eyes to Lissa roughly shaking me. She had a bright smile on her face and she looked much fresher than the first time I had met her, but it didn't negate the fact that she wasn't very gentle.

"What?" I moaned at her.

"You have to get dressed," she informed me, arching a blonde eyebrow. "We are serving the court today."

"Serving?" I asked, more awake now.

"Yes," she confirmed, perplexed at my confusion. "The personal servants of the royals attend to more than just their rooms. Weren't you aware of that?"

"No," I muttered, suddenly shy. "No, I was not."

Lissa studied me closely before unleashing a bright smile upon me.

"Well," she said, "with those looks, I doubt you'll be doing many chores anyway. Let's see what we can do to clean you up."

It wasn't that I doubted Lissa's ability to make me look like a lady, but even I was surprised when I looked at the reflection in the mirror after she had finished poking, prodding and buffing every surface of my body. She had brought some new clothes into my rooms with her, and one of the dresses was a deep red corseted dress. As I was being presented to the court as Belikov's maid, I had to look more than just a serving girl. The dress clinched at my waist and flowed out, with golden embroidery detailing the bottom. Lissa swept my hair over one shoulder in a braid, and painted my lips with some of the red dye I had seen Mia wearing the day before. She herself looked much plainer wearing a plain green colour, and when I questioned this she laughed at me.

"Rose, the entire court will think Dimitri is bedding you," she said with a gleam in her eye. "Not only does it set the bar for the rest of them, but your stunning beauty will reflect well on Dimitri. He has appearances to keep, you know."

I blushed bright red at that, and Lissa patted my cheeks thoughtfully. "That colour suits you," she admired, standing back to look at me. "You're more beautiful than any woman in the court, that's for sure."

Content with my appearance, Lissa guided me from the tower and down the stone stairs.

"How do I act?" I asked her, suddenly confused. "And how do I serve people?"

"Oh trust me, you won't be doing much serving," Lissa told me with a laugh. "Otherwise, keep your temper and remain polite and the men will be too interested in staring at your chest to care what comes out of your mouth."

"Oh," I muttered, unimpressed. So this was the life of a courtesan.

"Don't look at it as a bad thing," she told me. "Courtesans of the court are treated better than most others. And the fact that you're under Belikov's protection means that none will dare lay a hand on you. Speaking of which," she paused, folding the sleeves of the dress up once, "Show your mark. It will keep you safe here."

"But I don't want to be seen as a slave" I hissed, angrily stomping the stairs. "I don't want to be somebody's property."

"Rose," Lissa said, pulling me to a stop. "Look at me. Thinking like that here will only get you killed. To these men, you aren't anything but a body. They don't care how you feel, and don't care what you think. Please Rose; please just do as they say."

I could see that Lissa was genuinely concerned about me, and it warmed my heart. Nobody had been concerned about me since I was fourteen. To appease her, I sighed.

"I'll do my best," I told her. "But I can't promise anything."

It was only my pride that kept me from turning on my heels and bolting from the room when Lissa and I eventually traversed the enormous distance to the grand mess hall. Far from the private affair I had imagined, the room was bursting with people, all dressed in their finest. The red gown I was wearing, easily the most luxurious thing I had ever worn, looked like rags in comparison. The women were covered in expensive jewels with their faces painted and their hairs swept into extravagant designs. The men, likewise, were all dressed in their finest with billowing capes and gold hanging from their necks and fingers, swords strapped decoratively to their waists. I felt like prey walking into a hunter's lair; these people fought with their tongues and words as opposed to their fists, and it scared me.

"Roza." Belikov's deep voice was suddenly in my ear, causing me to jump. "You look… incredible," he whispered.

Lissa had suddenly disappeared from beside me, leaving us alone.

"Shall we," he asked, holding out his arm to me. I was unsure what to do so took it gingerly, allowing him to lead me forward into the fray.

I would imagine that Belikov would have attracted attention regardless of whether or not I was beside him, but I was almost certain the double-takes were caused by me. All around us, women and men alike turned to stare at me, the woman on the arm of the Prince. Women glared and men ran their eyes up and down my body, several nudging one another and grinning. I followed Belikov's example and held my head high, staring straight ahead, yet my arm tightened on his. He bent his head down to my ear and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Right now there isn't a single person in this room not jealous of us," he told me cheerfully, moving his arm to wrap around my waist. I flinched but didn't move away, knowing he was my only protection.

"How so?" I muttered back.

"Well, the men want their daughters on my arm and a share of my power. The women want to be on my arm, and all of them hate that you are divine and all my own."

I snickered. "That sounds complex," I told him.

"Oh, it is," he grinned. I was dazzled by how handsome he looked when a full smile graced his face, the white of his teeth contrasting with the black of his clothing.

"Why don't we make a show of you now, yes?" He asked cheekily.

"Fuck off," I told him back, and he laughed, a small sound that caught the attention of almost everyone in the room.

"I will punish you for that later," he told me. He seemed to be in strangely good spirits, a far cry from the brutality he had displayed the day before. I couldn't keep up with the man.

"Dimka!" I barely had time to catch myself when a sickly sweet smelling woman shoved me from Belikov's arms, sending me flying. Around us I noticed people move away, and I wondered why. I didn't have to wait long for an answer, almost laughing at the pained expression on the Prince's face.

"Hello, Natasha," he grunted, trying to extract himself from her grip. The woman was having none of it however and turned in his arms, giving me my first view of her.

She was undoubtedly beautiful with long black hair and ice blue eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped face. She was slightly taller than me and also much thinner, her pale skin many shades lighter than my own after years spent in the sun. She was dressed in a form-fitting black dress, floor length and clinging to her curves. She was clearly royal, and also very clearly wealthy. I quietly snorted to myself, remembering Mia's words the day before.

"Natasha, I would like to introduce you to my new employee, Rose," he tried again, attempting to angle his body away from hers. She was having none of it, and only turned to glare at me coldly.

"Oh yes, the poor wretch you discovered in that primitive village" she dismissed, her voice high and loud. "I bet she does anything you want in the bedroom, so desperate for attention."

I was the only one who didn't freeze as everybody around me stared, anticipating what Belikov's reaction to that would be. He didn't have to say anything however, as I beat him to it.

"At least I make it to the bedroom with him," I told her sweetly, smiling lusciously at her.

Around me I heard people began to chuckle, and saw Natasha turn red with rage. I didn't wait for a reply however, instead curtseying to Belikov.

"Please excuse me, my lord," I asked softly, "but the present company is making me feel slightly faint."

Belikov nodded at me, mirth plastered across his face. I knew then that I had made my first enemy here, but true to what Lissa had told me I was able to get away with much more than other slaves due to my position. For added effect I swung my hips as I strode towards the outside balcony, grinning as I felt the men's eyes follow me. Suddenly I felt much more confident. They might have money and power, but these people were no different to those I had warded off my entire life.

The balcony was almost deserted as the gentry didn't wish to expose themselves to the heat of the day. For it was hot and dry outside and even I felt a small sweat break out upon my brow. I stared at the city below me, filled with the working class going about their daily business. I felt an envy for them that was so complete it filled me with sadness; here I was, sitting in a castle with more luxury than I had ever been exposed to, completely and entirely trapped, whilst the poor had freedom. I leant over the walls and stared down, once again imagining what it would be like to fall. The lure of escaping a hell where I was gawked at for my body and punished for speaking my thoughts aloud was almost too great.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I spun around suddenly to come face to face with a woman. No, not a woman, I corrected myself. She was still only a girl, perhaps sixteen or seventeen summers old. She was gorgeous though, with long dark hair highlighted with blonde streaks and brown eyes. She was dressed more plainly than the other nobles but looked better for it; her dark blue gown was embroidered in black, tying in with her dark hair and eyes.

"Why not?" I asked, closing my eyes and breathing in the air. It was so dry, so lifeless, so unlike my home that I couldn't bear it.

"Because I've never seen the Prince look at another the way he looks at you," she told me.

I straightened and turned to face her, seeing her shoulders sag with relief as I moved away from the walls.

"Why should that mean anything to me?" I asked the girl.

"Look at Verex," she said, looking out at the city sadly. "It is dying. Dying with the war, dying from having the life sucked out of it. Dimitri is the only hope Thraln has, and when he looks at you, I see in his eyes what I haven't seen since he was a boy."

"What's that?" I asked, curious now.

"Tenderness, mercy," she said, lowering her eyes. "I see lust yes, but it goes beyond that. When he looks at you, he feels remorse."

"And so he should." My words were so bitter, so full of hatred that she looked up at me, startled. "He took everything and everyone away from me. He enslaved me. He ruined my life."

"He can be a brute," she agreed. "But it doesn't change the way he looks at you."

"I hate him," I hissed. "I would rather die than share his bed."

"Is that really true but?" She asked with half a smile. Before I could reply however, the man himself strode out of the glass doors.

"Roza?" he called, smiling when he saw me. "For once, you have my thanks for that sharp tongue of yours. Natasha has crawled back to her father with her complaining, leaving me alone."

"I'm glad to be of service." I said blandly, as the girl doubled over laughing.

"Vika?" Belikov asked, peering at her.

"Hello, brother." She returned cheerfully, opening her arms to him.

With a start, I recognised her. Viktoria Belikova, the youngest daughter of King Sergei and Queen Olena. She was one of the girls in the tapestry in the Prince's room. Wonderful.

"You've grown so much," he told her, pulling her into his arms and swinging her around. I caught myself smiling against my will, touched by the reunion.

"Well, you have been gone for over a year," she scolded him.

"Not my fault," he spoke shortly.

"I know," she told him gently, cupping his face in her small hand. "But you're home now."

I turned away, wanting to give them privacy, but Belikov was having none of it. Instead, he reached out and took my arm.

"Come, Roza." He said to me. "Let us return to the viper's nest." He opened his other arm to Viktoria, who accepted it gracefully.

"It is going to be much more interesting with Ozera now," Viktoria giggled. "The crown princess of Scandina against the Prince's courtesan- I can hardly wait."

"What did you say?" I gasped. "The Princess of Scandina?"

Scandina was the nation bordering Thraln to the west, just as Ilore bordered to the east. A powerful nation famed for their resources, King Ronald Ozera was a ruthless man, but not a stupid one. Suddenly, it all made sense as to why Natasha was intent on claiming Belikov. As the wife of Belikov, her nation would be guaranteed safety. I had just managed to piss off the daughter of a King. Sometimes, I surprised even myself.

"Yes," Vika laughed. "Wherever did you find her, Dimka?" She asked. "She's perfect."

"I took her from Andeep," Belikov answered.

"What, that place where they rape their own mothers?" Viktoria asked without thinking. I stopped and turned on my heel, looking into her mortified face.

"Excuse me?" I asked her, my voice frigid.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"Viktoria began, but was cut off.

"Roza, do not speak to my sister in that manner again," he told me coldly. "Do not forget that she is a Princess and you are a slave."

"Of course" I hissed, truly angry now. "How silly of me. I apologise your highness," I bowed mockingly, before picking up my skirts and walking away.

"I did not dismiss you," Belikov threatened.

"And I don't care," I told him to his face.

"Where will you go?" He asked me angrily.

"Anywhere is better than being here with you!" I growled, storming away without looking back.

After walking in circles for hours, I found myself in the outside stables. In Andeep, the stables had always been a place of comfort for me, a place of warmth and relative safety where I could rest for the night. Breathing in the familiar smells, I slowly calmed. Viktoria hadn't known any better when she insulted my home, but Belikov had. To humiliate me in front of one of the only people that had been kind to me was beyond cruel, and my hands itched with the urge to hit something.

"Feeling a bit irritable lass?" A familiar voice asked. I turned, a slow smile spreading across my face when I took in the lanky figure of Russell leaning against the stable door opposite me. He looked more relaxed and carefree than I had ever seen him, dressed in dark pants and a loose, open blue tunic. He was sweating, clearly having just come in from training, but somehow his voice lifted my spirits.

"I'm sick of this place," I told him, ripping my hair from its braid and allowing it to flow behind me.

"I'm sick of the people," I continued, kicking off my heeled shoes, "and most of all," I hit the door. "I want to go home."

"Ah lass, I can't help you with that one," he told me sadly. "But I might be able to help with that pent up aggression of yours."

"And how are you going to do that?" I challenged, raising my brow at him.

"Well," he drawled, "only a fool could miss the scars over you. So tell me girl, can you fight?"

I didn't reply, just grinned wolfishly at him.

I was dressed in a man's tunic and pants as I faced him several minutes later, my stance relaxed. We had already drawn a small crowd, curious as to why a girl was dressed in fighting clothes. I was sweating in the hot air but it only served to pump the adrenaline through my body faster. This was what I knew. This is what I had missed.

"Code word is easy, yell stop if I hurt you," Russ called cockily, his lazy grin stretched across his face. I smiled in return and nodded, knowing he was underestimating me. Nobody ever thought a woman could fight, and without fail it was their undoing.

He was the first to make a move, striking forward with his left arm. He was fast, but I easily blocked him, knowing he was holding back. To wake him up I hooked my leg around his and tripped him, sitting on his chest as he fell heavily to the ground.

"I didn't come here to fight like a girl," I told him sternly as the men around us laughed. "So will you stop treating me like I'm made of porcelain?"

He stared up at me, wonder lighting his eyes. "Aye lass," he told me, narrowing his eyes. "I'll stop holding back."

He leapt to his feet and spun at me then, catching me in the chest. Instead of blocking the hit I allowed it to land, ignoring the pain in my ribs, and caught him off balance. My fist shot out and caught him in the chin, sending him flying into the dirt again.

"You're still holding back," I taunted him as he slowly got to his feet, ignoring the growing crowd. "Fight me properly."

He didn't reply, only sank into a crouch, eyes intent on me. I knew then that I was going to get a real fight and matched his movements, circling around him slowly. This time, I was the first one to move, feinting to his left in a quick lunge. He was experienced however and didn't fall for it, using my overbalance to grab my arm and kick me in the knee. I was used to this though and quickly darted out of the way, landing a blow on his stomach. He gasped, but spun his body around and quickly kicked me in the shins, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me into the ground. My ribs screamed but I ignored it, feeling the best I had since my capture. As Russ tried to pin me down I quickly bucked my leg around his and slid out from under him, pinning my hand to his throat.

"Dead," I declared, smiling at him.

"Damn girl, you're a natural," he complimented as the gathered men cheered. "Never seen a woman fight like that in all my life."

I raised myself to my feet and extended my hand to him, pulling him up. We stood staring at one another, breathing heavily, until he saluted me.

"You fight better than most of my men," he told me. "Were it women could fight, you'd be a machine. Where did you learn?"

"I taught myself," I told him. "When my mother died especially, I had to learn to fight off the men. Years of desperation does a lot to you."

"I can see that," he murmured, suddenly grinning. "And from the looks of it, they can too."

I was amazed to see the men around us all muttering amongst themselves, some still clapping and cheering. It was the tall figure towards the end of the practise ring that caught my attention however, his dark eyes riveted on me.

"Good luck lass," he told me cheekily as Belikov beckoned me with one finger. "He gives you any trouble, don't hesitate to use some of them moves on him. The man might be harsh, but he's not cruel."

"Thanks," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth as Russ laughed. "I'll try to remember that."

Belikov's eyes were expressionless when I finally fought my way through the dispersing crowd to him.

"I didn't give you permission to engage in combat," he told me coldly.

"And I didn't believe I needed permission," I replied tartly, turning my back to him. He grabbed me by my arm and spun me around, eyes boring into mine.

"You are my property, and you are injured." He told me.

"Injured thanks to you," I scoffed. "I don't see how it is any of your business whether I fight or not."

"It lowers the morale of the men to see a woman better in combat than them," he said sternly. "Worse still, it undermines my authority over you."

"What authority?" I asked him tauntingly. "If anything, the men should be glad you have a woman who can defend you."

"You're hopeless," he finally conceded, dragging me by my arm towards the castle entrance. "Where did you put your clothing?"

"I gave it to one of the serving girls," I answered. "She will return it to your rooms."

"Our rooms," he corrected, glancing at me sideways.

"It hardly feels like home," I told him after a pause. People were staring at my attire as we walked, but I ignored them.

"It will eventually," he told me. "I have no plans to marry, and you give me everything I need."

"Everything?" I asked as we climbed the granite stairs.

"Companionship. Attendance. Blind hatred," he smirked, grinning at me.

"What changed?" I asked abruptly as we passed through marble rooms.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you treating me so nicely? Yesterday you were abusing me, and today you care?"

"I decided it didn't matter," he finally told me as we reached the foot of the stairs to his tower.

"What didn't matter?" I asked, confused.

"What people thought," he answered, his voice a little soft. "I decided I didn't want to end up like my father."

"Hmm?" I was loathe to push further.

"A true monster," he mused. "A man everybody wants dead, a man whose daughters hate him." He looked at me then, his eyes tender. "When I first saw you, so full of hatred and pain, you reminded me of my mother." His eyes became haunted. "She's suffered so much at his hands. And then you stood up to Natasha for me, despite the way I have treated you, and that made me think." He stopped then, pressing my body into the wall. I quivered beneath him, whether from fear or anticipation I wasn't sure.

"But it was Vika today who finally convinced me," he told me, his breath warm against my cheek. "She told me that unless I changed I would end up lonely and alone, and nobody would cry for me when I was gone."

"I'm sure she would," I breathed back.

"But would my people Roza?" he asked. "Would you?"

"I am not one of your people," I told him, but with no severity this time.

"No," he breathed. "Would you love me if you didn't have to though?"

I had no answer for him, but I didn't need one. He took advantage of my silence to lean towards me, his dark eyes smouldering into mine. When I didn't move, he pressed his lips gently to mine, soft and inviting.

My body was screaming at me to run, to attack this man, that he was a monster. But looking into his eyes, I only saw loneliness and remorse. My heart, always a traitor, wanted this man more than it had wanted anything else in my life and I felt myself yielding beneath him, moaning as his warm hands grasped my small waist.

All too soon it was over though and Belikov smiled, the first genuine smile I had ever seen him show. It lit up his whole face and reached his eyes, and I couldn't help the blush that rose to my cheeks.

"I still hate you," I blurted, wanting him to know that the kiss hadn't changed the fact that I blamed him for destroying my life.

"I know," he told me, touching my face with a gentle finger. "But just a little bit less than you did yesterday. And that, I can live with."

He turned then and strode through the stone door to his chambers, leaving me staring at the wall, more confused than ever, in his wake.

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><p>Whew, 8500 words in a day. That's a tough one- I am sorry about the format, it doesn't seem to convert properly from my laptop. Please let me know what you think, and I'll do my best to update again soon! :-)<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Hi guys! I'm so so so so soooo sorry it's taken me a while to update, I've been really sick and have had a heap of work and uni things to do, as well as having now have to do rehab on my broken ankle which really sucks. I know though, you don't want to hear excuses. I'll get this one to you and hopefully another one today or tomorrow as well in apology; hopefully it won't be as long again :)

I am unfortunately not the one that makes money from VA, that would be Richelle Mead. I only use her characters for fun :)

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><p>CHAPTER 6<p>

"Rose, stop complaining!"

I sighed as Lissa yanked the back of my corset tighter, pulling my waist in to a point that I could barely breathe. Not that it mattered; Belikov hadn't spoken to me since our kiss the day before, falling straight to bed at night without any words. I was strangely disappointed even though I hadn't expected anything more; I somehow had faith that he was better than he made out.

"It hurts," I hissed as she pulled the laces once more, pressing on my battered ribs.

"Well," she gritted, giving it one final tug, "you shouldn't have been rolling around in the mud like a man all day yesterday, should you?"

I rolled my eyes for the countless time that morning. Lissa was very upset at my antics the day before, insisting that not only did she now have to have my clothes cleaned, but I wasn't behaving like a lady. I snorted at the latter part but did feel slightly bad about throwing the beautiful dress in the dirt, yet when I offered to help clean it Lissa laughed at me. I was confused; I didn't know what she wanted from me.

"Please let me clean the clothes Liss," I begged, attempting to appease her. She sighed heavily and turned me around to face her, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"Rose, you don't realise what your actions yesterday did," she informed me.

I laughed. "What, insulting the almighty Natasha Ozera?"

"Exactly," she told me, completely serious. "You're not just a slave now, you have power. Power over Dimitri, as well as power over the men in this court."

"What?" I asked, astounded. "How?"

She sighed again. "Rose, you really are clueless," she disapproved. "By standing up to Ozera not only did you paint a target on your back, you caught the attention of the men in court. The women love you for taking Natasha down, and the men love you because, well, you're gorgeous and they can't have you. You've become somewhat of a celebrity overnight."

"I didn't mean for that to happen," I muttered. "I couldn't let her talk to me like that is all."

"You were meant to," Lissa admonished, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You're going to turn this whole place upside down, aren't you?" She mused to herself.

"That's the plan" I smirked. This was the best outcome I could have hoped for.

"And that's why you are taking luncheon with the royals," Lissa laughed, pulling a dark satin slip over my underwear. "Dimitri has demanded your attendance, and dare I say it but I'm sure they're all curious."

"What!" I shrieked, spinning around and causing her to scold me. "You didn't mention this was going to be with the royal family!"

"I didn't think it would bother you," Lissa laughed, clearly enjoying herself. "You seem to enjoy the attention."

"Yes, but, but," I spluttered, at a loss for words. Lissa only smiled to herself, reaching behind her to pick up a dark green gown very similar to the one I had worn yesterday. As she pulled this gown over my head and I struggled for my tongue, I noticed for the first time that I wasn't being dressed as a slave; I was being dressed as a lady.

"Liss, what's all this?" I asked, tugging at the pretty gown. It cupped my chest and waist narrowly but had a full skirt, giving me an hourglass appearance.

"This is your dress," she answered, confused.

"Yeah I get that," I told her. "But why is it so… nice?"

Lissa paused, her green eyes meeting my own. I had never before realised how haunted her eyes were.

"Rose, whether or not you stay with Dimitri now, you will be a lady of the court," she told me. "We need to present you as such."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Rose, the way those men were looking at you yesterday left nothing to the imagination," she told me. "Whether one of them takes you as a wife or as a mistress, you will eventually join this place as part of the gentry."

"But I don't want that!" I yelled, swinging my arms wildly. "I won't marry one of those pigs!"

"Well, you can't marry Dimitri," she told me mildly, raising her brows when my furious eyes met hers. "Just saying," she added quickly.

"Where I come from, women have a say," I told her. "Yes, class matters, but if a woman does not wish to marry a man, she won't be forced to."

"It isn't like that here Rose," Lissa told me sadly. "Marriages happen for power, not love. You marry to increase your power, and marrying someone you love could lower your status or worse." She sounded so sad when she said it that I became suspicious.

"Do you have somebody?" I asked her slyly. "Somebody you can't marry because their class is wrong?"

Lissa blushed, and I knew I had hit the nail on the head.

"No," she said quickly, but I could almost taste the victory.

"Who?" I asked. "Promise I won't tell."

She paused before letting it out in a rush. "Christian Ozera," she huffed.

"Oh no," I smiled, disbelieving. "The brother of Natasha?"

"No, nephew," she corrected. "Natasha has many older siblings. Christian is Moira and Lucas' son."

"I don't know who they are," I admitted, "But I'll keep an eye out for him."

"Nothing will ever come of it," Lissa told me wistfully. "I'm only a slave, and he is the Earl of Visconce." Visconce was a larger city of Thraln to the south of Verex. "As well as that, he is a Lieutenant in the royal army and one of Dimitri's best friends. We could never be together."

I realised then that this was wrong, so very wrong. Why shouldn't two people be allowed to love one another, or refuse a marriage? Why wasn't Lissa, the most beautiful person I knew, not allowed to be with Christian?

"Who cares?" I asked fiercely.

"Sorry?"

"Who cares what they think. You should be with him anyway," I argued.

"Rose, you have a lot to learn," was all Lissa replied as she began to brush my long hair.

Several hours later I stood in front of King Sergei and Queen Olena's quarters, my heart hammering in my chest. I looked stunning; the blue gown contrasting with my brown hair and eyes. That didn't stop the nerves though; Lissa had given me a crash course in etiquette, but I was deadly afraid I would stuff up again.

Raising my hand, I tentatively knocked on the oak door. Two guards stood on either side of me and neither had reacted to my presence, so I assumed I was expected. Sure enough, a moment later an elegant woman opened the doors and was revealed to me. I recognised her instantly; Olena Belikova was a striking woman after all. She had a soft face with doe like brown eyes and long brown hair, and even though she was dressed severely in a black corseted wrap, her eyes showed the same gentleness I sometimes saw in the Prince's.

"You must be Rose," she smiled at me, extending her hand. I was shocked and slowly took it, bemused that she would even want to touch me.

"Yes, your majesty," I told her, curtseying slightly. She waved me off at that.

"Please, call me Olena," she laughed. "I hate being called by my title. And don't do that ridiculous bowing to me."

"Sure, Olena." I muttered. I had expected ridicule and disgust- I could have dealt with that. But dealing with respect and kindness was something I had no idea how to respond to.

"Come in," she invited, pulling me by my hand into the rooms.

The King's chambers were, as to be expected, exceedingly opulent. The sitting room alone, in which we were standing, was the size of Belikov's entire tower. Expensive chairs and sofas were arranged strategically around the room, with side tables and statues used to fill in space. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and plush rugs coated the floors. It was clearly luxurious but I felt no envy in the space; instead, I felt uncomfortable. The wealth was too overwhelming.

"Olena, what have I told you about touching the servants!" A voice roared suddenly, making me jump. Olena, however, seemed unfazed.

"She's not a servant," Olena replied, giving me a knowing wink. I instantly blushed.

"She's your son's courtesan and chambermaid," Sergei roared again from his position lying across a leather sofa to our left. "Don't sully your hands with such filth."

My face instantly drained of colour and in my anger, I tightened my hold on Olena's hand without realising it. She squeezed back slightly, turning to face her husband.

"And don't you sully our rooms with such nonsense," she replied, sounding just as angry as I was. "Rose is our guest and you will give her the respect she deserves."

Sergei snorted and rose to his feet, glowering at the both of us.

"I shouldn't be surprised," he said frigidly. "You come from the same filth that she does."

"Father," another voice interrupted. I almost sagged with relief, something I never thought I'd do when I heard Belikov speak.

"Stay out of this Dimitri," Sergei growled.

"I will not," he said, rounding the corner from another room. "I invited Rose today and I will not have you ruining the first day I have spent with my family with your prejudice."

"You have nerve boy," he said quietly, walking over to glare at Belikov.

"Father, stop!" A fourth voice broke in, and I recognised Viktoria looking sweet in periwinkle blue staring at her father from the doorway to our right. "Rose hasn't done anything wrong!" She cried.

Sergei laughed then, a manic sound that sent chills down my spine. "Either she leaves or I do," he threatened. To my surprise, nobody asked me to leave.

"Rose is my guest," Belikov told him resolutely. "And you are acting like a brute."

Within a second, the door had slammed and he was gone.

Around me, everybody relaxed at once. I didn't know what to say, and wasn't sure what I had just witnessed. There was more to this family than met the eye, it seemed.

"I apologise Rose," Olena said, releasing my hand and turning to face me. "Sergei is not the most reasonable of men at the best of times."

"Reasonable?" Viktoria snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "He's a pig!"

"You can't say that about your own father," Olena scolded, but Viktoria only rolled her eyes. I was beginning to like her more and more.

"Damn well can," she muttered, and I had to hide a smile while Olena sighed.

"Viktoria, what will I ever do with you?" She mused to herself.

I looked up then, feeling eyes upon me. Belikov's brown eyes were boring into mine, an intense expression on his face. My cheeks flushed when I remembered the last time I had looked into his eyes and a small grin turned up the corner of his mouth as he realised where my thoughts had turned.

"Roza, I apologise for my father's behaviour," he told me formally, crossing the room to take my hand in his. I almost wrenched it away but gritted my teeth instead, realising that I should probably be on my best behaviour. His eyes twinkled with humour, ignoring the glances that Viktoria and Olena were exchanging behind his back.

"Please, come and be seated," he continued, leading me towards the arched doorway he had recently appeared from. Clenching my jaw, I followed him, suddenly angry at him. His moods were all over the place; I couldn't keep up.

Walking into what was clearly the dining room, Belikov held out a plush chair for me. I didn't sit however; instead, I glared at him. He was smirking openly at me, which was only making me angrier.

"What's your problem?!" I finally burst out with, regardless of the fact that his mother and sister were following us.

"My problem?" He asked innocently, quirking one eyebrow at me. Behind me I could hear Viktoria begin to giggle, but my attention was entirely upon the hulking man standing before me.

"Yeah, your problem," I spat at him. "One moment you treat me like the dirt on your shoes and the next you stand up to a king over me? What is wrong with you?" The more I spoke the less angry and more confused I became; I had never met anybody like him.

"Ignore Dimka," Olena tutted as she sat across from me, interrupting our staring. "Half the time even I don't understand him, and I'm his Mother."

"Yeah, he's a loser," Viktoria added cheerfully, scraping her chair next to mine inelegantly. Snorting with laughter, I finally conceded and sat down in the proffered seat. "I remember the time Karolina slapped him for treating her like a 'woman'." She said the word with disdain.

"Huh," I replied, the cogs turning in my head. Belikov was smiling and relaxed in the presence of his family, and would defend even a servant against his father. I filed that piece of information away thoughtfully; things were beginning to make sense to me.

As Belikov and his sister bantered across the oak table, several servants entered from an unobtrusive door in the corner of the room carrying plates of food; platters of meat, sauces, fruits and delicacies. It was a feast the likes of which I had never seen before; a feast that could have fed every single person in Andeep for a day.

"I'm sorry for the ordinary fare," Olena murmured. "We tend not to eat normally when it is just us."

"What did you say?" I interrupted her, astounded. The people in my village struggled each day to find food to put on their plates, and after years of scavenging her inconsiderate words offended me.

"Roza," Belikov growled warningly, but both Olena and I ignored him.

"I apologised for the ordinary food?" Olena repeated questioningly. She seemed confused by my frustration.

"You call this ordinary?" I asked, not caring that I was talking to the Queen of Thraln. She was not my queen, and even though I appreciated her earlier gesture I couldn't believe she could be so naïve.

"Well, yes." She informed me loftily. Belikov started to open his mouth, but I beat him to it.

"Olena," I told her, looking her in her big brown eyes. "There is enough food on this plate to feed me for weeks."

"Weeks?" Viktoria gasped, eyes rounded. Belikov remained silent.

"Weeks," I confirmed, suddenly losing my appetite. How could these people not know what was happening in their world?

"But, how?" She asked, completely perplexed. "Everybody in Thraln eats well."

I laughed then, my tone mocking. "There are people starving on your doorstep, and you think this is plain?" I asked disbelievingly.

"What are you talking about?" Olena asked. "Whenever Sergei and I leave the palace, the people seem perfectly content."

"Perhaps you should open your eyes then," I told her bluntly. "Take it from someone who has spent their whole life struggling to put one meal a day on a plate; your people are starving."

"Rose!" Belikov finally interrupted. "That's enough!"

I looked around then, noticing the confused and upset expressions on both Viktoria's and Olena's faces.

"But that means Sergei has kept us from the truth," Olena muttered. "Why is that so surprising?"

I realised I may have stumbled into something at that moment, something that Sergei had put a lot of effort into concealing from his wife and daughters.

"Olena," I asked her slowly, "when was the last time you left the palace without your husband?"

She shook her head slowly. "I can't remember," she finally admitted.

I decided I had planted enough seeds then, and suddenly felt claustrophobic.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, feeling the opulent walls closing in around me. A queen with no idea of what her people were going through, a tyrant king with no regard for anybody but himself, and a confusing prince who was as likely to hit me as kiss me was too much to take.

I pushed myself away from the table and backed up, fleeing from the room. Whatever was going on here was too confusing for me to figure out right now. I ran, something I was ashamed of, ran from the excessive food and too-nice queen, away from the snarky princess and tumultuous prince. I ran, and didn't stop.

-DPOV-

I watched her flee in her blue gown, eyes wide and overwhelmed. Those brown eyes of hers reflected her emotions like a mirror; as much as I knew she tried to hide what she was feeling, she couldn't hide from me. I was intrigued by the girl in ways I couldn't fathom; she was everything I didn't want in a woman, yet was so perfect in every way imaginable.

I knew my mother was watching me with a knowing glint in her eye but I chose to ignore her. I had never been able to hide anything from Olena; she saw into me the way I saw into Rose.

"How was that?" She asked, a laugh in her voice. Olena was not a stupid woman, and had played along with my ploy in order to scrape a little under the surface of what made Rose tick. I wanted to know the inner workings of the girl's head but knew in order to gain her trust I would have to find what was important to her; I had hurt her too much for her to trust me otherwise. I felt bad for it but it was exceedingly difficult to control myself around Rose; she was the most irritating yet endearing person I had ever met.

"So, that's your courtesan?" Vika asked, raising her arched eyebrows at me.

I frowned at the word, annoyed. I knew it was safer for everyone to assume I kept Rose around to share my bed, but nobody knew that we had only shared our one kiss. I still felt warm when I remembered it, the illicit yet totally amazing feel of her lips against my own. I knew if my father found out I saw Rose any differently than a chambermaid I would be in trouble, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. The completely brazen and outspoken girl had caught my eye in a way no other ever had.

"Oh come on Dimka," she snorted derisively. "I know you haven't shared a bed with her yet."

My ears flamed at hearing my younger sister speak in that manner.

"Vika," I admonished. "That is hardly appropriate."

"And why is that?" Viktoria shouted, suddenly fiery and furious. My sister and I shared that trait in common with our father; we were quick to anger and slow to calm. "Because I'm a female?"

She was taunting me with her words, and like always I took the bait.

"Yes!" I confirmed. "Women shouldn't speak like that!"

"Like what, Dimitri?" She asked. "Women shouldn't be able to speak of the same matters as men? Women shouldn't have an opinion?" She studied me pityingly then, rising to her feet. "I hope you see sense soon Dimitri, because there is no way you will unlock the heart of your chamber maid," she sneered the word, "if you don't stop thinking like father!"

Viktoria turned on her heel and fled from the room then, leaving me staring after her with a bemused expression on my face. I turned to Mother, ready to complain, but her shaking shoulders caused me to pause. She was laughing; laughing so hard that tears ran down her face, and I shut my mouth with an audible snap.

"What is so funny?" I finally asked when she had finished.

"Both of you," she answered, still hiccupping. "Your younger sister is so much like you it amuses me."

"She's a woman," I grumbled. "She shouldn't be like me at all."

"Enough, Dimitri." Olena finally snapped at me, her humour gone. "That is Sergei talking in you, not the man you are."

"But you know I'm right!" I argued, running a hand through my thick hair. "Both her and Roza behave like men, and both hate me when I scold them for it."

"Dimitri, who do you think takes care of this castle when you and your father are gone?" Mother asked me. I almost answered hastily, but stopped myself. She had a knowing glint in her eyes.

"And who do you think ensures the people don't completely starve?" She continued when I didn't reply. "Who do you think they would aid if your father ever tried to harm me?"

I had never thought about things that way, and my brow furrowed in thought.

"Remember Dimka," she continued, patting me on the shoulder. "Ultimate power doesn't lie in who can fight the best, or who can conquer the most lands. It lies in who can win the hearts of the people. Remember that when you speak to Rose next. She understands more about what I speak of than you do."

Olena swept gracefully from the quarters then, no doubt in search of her unruly daughter. Deep in thought, I walked through the dining room and opened the glass doors leading to the balcony, and leaned my long body over the railing. Looking out over the horizon, I saw the flurry of activity coming from my people as they worked hard to put food on their tables and feed their loved ones. Their faces would be set in hard lines with sweat dripping from their brows undoubtedly, the hard, unforgiving sun bearing down mercilessly on their shoulders. I felt a pang for the first time then, a pang for what my own people suffered while I lived in luxury. Shaking myself, I closed my eyes. What was happening to me? I had never been plagued with these thoughts before, had never cared what other people felt. It was Rose, I realised with steely resolve. It was Rose having an impact on me. If I could only have her and make her keep her provoking thoughts to herself, all this would go away.

Determined, I squared my shoulders and set my jaw. I would have Rose, I decided. I would turn her into a proper lady and I would have her just as I had every other woman I wanted, and when I was done with her I would marry her off and leave her with a better life than she could have ever expected. It was a good solution, one that benefitted both her and I, yet I couldn't stop the nagging sense of guilt that hung over me that perhaps what I was doing was wrong.

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><p>Holy jesus, I might have a little nap now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and review it; give me some feedback guys, where would you like this to go?<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Hi everyone! Well, as I promised, here is the next chapter! It's been a real effort to get one this long to you in one day, so I will warn you it might be a few days before i update again; i have a 3000 word essay and an indonesian exam in the next week, so I'll have my hands full. I hope you enjoy this chapter; we get to see the return of some of our favourites, as well as a little problem that arises at the very end. Anyhow, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Oh and PS- this chapter has a tiny little spoiler for the bloodlines series in it. I haven't included anything from silver shadows because i know most of you probably haven't read it or if you have know people who havent, so if you don't know about the relationships in bloodlines then by all means, please dont continue reading.

I do not own VA, you get the drill.

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

I heaved a breath when I finally made it up the stone staircase, my face red and my hair wild. I don't know why out of all the places I could have gone I ended up back in Belikov's rooms; he was the last person I wanted to be close to after the lunch fiasco. Yet I had very little control over where my feet had carried me and here I was now, sweating and exhausted, in the very place I didn't want to be.

As I dragged myself to my little room, the tears I had been holding back for days finally began to flow. I had always known I had control over my own fate, even when things hadn't looked promising, but now even that had been ripped from me. Belikov was in control of that now, and after everything that had happened between us I hated that thought more than ever.

I curled into a ball on the bed then, crying silently. It wasn't long before I heard the door open and close and footsteps heading towards me, but I ignored it. My life had been turned upside down, my pride and respect trampled on and my hope crushed. Belikov could go shove it, I thought as I buried my face in the pillow. He could go to hell.

I felt his heavy weight drop onto the mattress near my feet but ignored him, just as I always did. It was a shock, therefore, when his arm grasped mine and he yanked me up.

"Why are you crying?" He growled at me, his eyes angry.

I knew he might have been upset after I had run out on his family as I had, but I had only ever seen this coldness in his eyes once before, and I had nearly died that time. Catching my breath, I tilted my head up at him.

"I'm crying because I'm stuck with a miserable sod like you for the rest of my horrible life!" I yelled, attempting to yank my arm free of his grasp. He only tightened his hold, however, and I cried out.

"You will not speak to your Prince that way," he told me, breathing into my face. "Do you understand?"

I was past the point of self-preservation now, my temper that usually got the best of me running free.

"You will never be my prince." I told him coldly.

He studied me for a second, ice in his brown eyes. Without warning, he yanked me off the bed and threw me into his bedchamber, his movements unhurried and threatening. I backed up against the wall as he closed the door behind us, his much larger and stronger body towering over my own.

"I have been so very lenient with you," he snarled softly. "I have provided you with luxuries that a slave would usually never see in an entire lifetime. I have defended you and this is how you repay me?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead throwing me to my knees. "You will swear your fealty to me," he informed me.

"No, I won't," I snapped back.

"Swear it!" He roared, shoving my head into the ground in a comical bow. "Acknowledge me as your prince!"

"I will not!" I yelled, leaping to my feet. Before he could stop me, I plunged one finger into his chest, scolding him as a mother would.

"You have taken my pride, my joy and my freedom from me. I didn't want your luxuries, I didn't want your defence, and I didn't want any of this!" I continued, gesturing wildly at the room.

He grabbed me by the waist then and launched me at his bed, knocking the breath out of me. Before I could speak he was leaning over me, his breath tickling my cheek.

"Well then should I treat you as I would treat a free woman?" He asked me civilly. "A free woman would be given an hour in my bed and then be thrown on the streets. Is that what you would like?" He asked.

"It'd be better than spending the rest of my life stuck here," I replied, fear in my voice.

He ripped the front of my dress then, the beautiful silk blue tearing under his rough hands. I gasped in fear; surely he wouldn't go this far.

"Be my free woman then Roza," he snarled, for the first time meeting my eyes. He crushed his lips to mine forcefully and without any restraint, so I did the only thing I could; I bit his lip.

Blood gushed from his wound and he pulled back, his face murderous.

"Get out." He told me, turning away.

"What?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Get. Out."

"B..b…but.."

"You said you wanted freedom," he laughed, red making a tunnel down his chin. "So get out."

I was unsure why his words hurt me so much. This is what I wanted, right? I wanted to be free, I wanted to not be a slave? Why did I feel so… alone, when I thought about life without Belikov then? I shook my head, fighting back the thoughts. I was stronger than this.

"Good luck finding another woman with enough guts to put up with you," I hissed venomously at him, pulling my dress together. With nothing except the dress I was wearing I threw myself from his rooms and down the staircase, fighting back the tears that threatened to overflow.

It was dark outside by the time I reached the palace entrance, and Verex was an entirely different world. Gone was the harsh brutality of life during the day, replaced with a culture both exotic and beautiful. People everywhere, free from daily toils, sat together and ate, singing songs and laughing. I went largely unnoticed aside from a few curious looks from palace guards, which I ignored. Slowly, I made my way through the city streets, the only light coming from the moon and the fires near huts that people were settled around. I was glad for the darkness; nobody could see the mess of my clothing, or the tear tracks that had settled on my face.

"Rose?" The voice was instantly recognisable, and without even realising I began to cry again.

"Lass, what's wrong?" Russell asked. He turned me towards him, face paling when he took in my state. "Who did this to you?" He finally asked quietly, eyes angry.

I laughed then, bitter. "Who else?" I asked him, my eyes blank.

"Come, lass," he finally told me. "I don't live in the barracks like most of the young ones. My wife will be more than happy to have you for the night."

"Wife?" I asked stupidly, allowing him to guide me through the warped streets.

"Aye," he smiled. "Twenty years now I've been with that brute, and not a day goes by she lets me forget it either."

We stopped outside a small but well-kept hut then, with a thatched roof and wooden slats. It was homely, and I instantly felt comfortable.

"Alberta, you old nag," he called affectionately. "We have a visitor."

I watched, torn between amusement and nervousness as an energetic woman bustled through the entrance opposite us. She was about my height, with sandy blonde hair streaked with grey. Her face was stoic but softened with laughter lines. Instinctively, I trusted her.

"And who is this?" She asked Russ, a twinkle in her eye. "Another of your mistresses eh?"

Russell snorted. "This, my dear, is the girl I was telling you about. Rose, meet my wife, Alberta."

"Oh you poor dear," she tutted then, pulling me from Russell's side. "What has that pig of a Prince done now?"

I sniffled, giving her a watery smile.

"No matter," she told me gently. "I'll kick his ass sooner or later. For now, let's get you into some clean clothes and tidy you up."

She left Russ standing on the steps, completely bemused, as she hustled me into her home.

"It's not much," she told me. "But it's ours."

And strangely enough, it was exactly what I would have expected from them. The house was small but cosy, a hearth fire burning low in the far corner with chairs arrayed around it haphazardly. A table sat to the left of the room next to the only window, curtains drawn to give the room a comfortable feel. Rugs lined the floor and two other rooms branched off from the main, one a bathing room and the other, I presume their bedroom. It wasn't much no, but it was all I had ever hoped for in my own home.

"It's perfect," I told her softly, eliciting a bright smile from her that transformed her face and made her look years younger.

"Come," she commanded. "I have just drawn some water for my own bath, and it is still warm. You look like you could do with a wash."

It wasn't much later that I found myself curled on a rug near the fire, wrapped in a warm robe with my hair loose around my shoulders. Alberta's gentle mothering nature had me feeling more relaxed than I had in a very long time, and I could feel my eyes drooping.

"Alberta?" I called softly, knowing I had one final thing to do before I succumbed to my drowsiness.

"Yes, Rose?" She answered.

"Thank you."

As my eyelids drooped even further, I could have sworn I heard her chuckle lightly.

"You're most welcome," she answered, her voice the last thing I was aware of as I drifted off into the deepest sleep I had been in since I had left Andeep.

DPOV

I tossed and turned that night, unable to remove the sight of her fearful eyes from my mind. I had thought that scaring her into submission, that showing her how an ordinary woman would be treated would have made her more docile, yet instead she had reacted in the way I least expected. Looking at the situation in hindsight, I ruefully thought that maybe her reaction hadn't been so uncalled for. I knew this was a girl that had spent her life defending herself from the unwanted advances of men, yet I was surprised by her fire? Groaning, I buried my head in my pillow, unable to sleep knowing she wasn't in the room next to me. After a little while more I finally gave up, throwing a loose robe around my shoulders and striding out to stare at the city.

In the early hours of the morning, everything was still. The embers of fires and the moonlight were the only things illuminating the stillness beneath me, the only things showing me what would be mine one day. Hauntingly, my mother's words floated back into my mind, cautioning me that the greatest power lay in winning the hearts of my people. I felt shame then, a deep and unrelenting shame that made me bow my head. Winning a heart, I knew, could not be done violently. My mother had lived her life in fear and hatred of my father, and I had watched her suffer and swore I would never bring pain to any being the way he did. Yet here I was, a carbon copy of the monster himself. How were my actions any better than Sergei's? How could forcing Rose into swearing her fealty to me ever be the right course of action?

I punched the railing, ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. It matched the stinging sensation that was still coming from my lip, an unwelcome reminder of what had transpired that afternoon. With a jolt, I wondered what had happened to Rose. She was down there somewhere now, I knew. She was down there in an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar people, with no money or shelter. She could be hurt even now, or lost, or cold, and it was entirely my fault. Ignoring the nagging voice that told me she was only a woman, only a slave, I quickly threw on some clothes and boots. If I was going to be a good King, a better king than my father, it needed to start somewhere. And if I could bring myself to feel for a slave girl, surely I could win the fealty of my own people.

I was glad for the darkness in the early hours that masked my presence. Even though I wore a cowled cloak, my height and shape would have been easily recognisable to any who knew what to look for. As the thought crossed my mind a hand grasped my shoulder, causing me to unsheathe my sword and spin defensively. I relaxed when I saw it was only Russ there, one eyebrow quirked curiously at me.

"Christ, Russ," I muttered. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Aye, I bet I did," he answered quietly, his mouth set in a hard line. I relaxed, which I later realised was possibly the worst mistake I could have made.

Out of the blue, his fist connected with my jaw. Hard. It wasn't enough to knock me over, but enough to make me fall back, shocked and angry.

"What the fuck was that for?" I roared, rubbing my jaw furiously. It was then that I saw the cold look in Russell's eyes, a look I had never seen directed at me from the usually jovial man's face. Not many men could instil fear in me, but seeing that look in Russell's eyes sent a slither of trepidation down my spine.

"I have known you your entire life, Dimitri," Russell told me frankly, turning his head away to stare into the darkness. "I was there through every major event in your twenty four years, and I've fought by your side for ten of those years. But," he said, turning to stare at me again. "Never in all of that time could I have imagined you would turn out so much like your father."

I felt cold when I realised what he was talking about. Rose.

"Where is she?" I asked him softly, still rubbing my jaw.

"And why should I tell you?" He scoffed at me. "For all I know, you could well try and rape her again."

"It wasn't like that!" I begged him, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. "I only wanted her to pledge herself to me."

"And why would she do that?" Russ asked, looking tired now. "You took her from her people, took her from her home, made her a slave and abused her."

I was silent, lost for words.

"I don't know," I finally admitted, turning away from Russ. "I don't even know why I care. It's not as though she's a lady, she's my goddamn slave."

"Is she though?" Russ asked, turning my shoulder towards his home to our left.

"She's in there," he informed me. "But be careful. So is my wife."

I shivered as I walked quietly to the porch. Alberta, Russell's wife, I had met once before. She was a no-nonsense woman, and to be honest she scared me, reminding me far too much of my own mother. I knocked softly on the door, flinching when her scowling face appeared.

"How did I know it would be you?" She muttered under her breath.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, perplexed.

"Never mind," she huffed, turning away from me. "Close the door behind you."

I had been in Russell's house many times growing up, and nothing much had changed in the years. Except now, a small figure lay before the low-burning hearth, her chest rising and falling gently. I felt an emotion I had never experienced before rise up in my throat, and I was struck speechless.

"Aye, it's like that isn't it?" Alberta asked quietly.

"Sorry?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"Falling in love."

"I'm not falling in love," I immediately countered, my face feeling uncomfortably warm.

"Aren't you?" She murmured. "Have any of the other ladies you've been with ever made you feel like this?"

I was silent.

"She's a slave," I finally muttered. "It doesn't matter how I feel."

"Your father won't live forever," she reminded me, careful to keep her voice quiet.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"It's supposed to mean," Alberta told me with condescension, "that maybe it is time for a change. The current outlook towards women is a little… antique, wouldn't you say?"

I thought about that for several moments before replying.

"I wouldn't say antique," I told her.

"Tell me, young Dimitri, when was the last time you saw a woman take on a man the way your Rose there took down my husband? Tell me the last time you saw a man show the same courage that she does."

"I can't," I answered truthfully.

"Precisely," she retorted. "Sergei is outdated in his views and the people are beginning to resent him. Make sure you don't make his mistakes when your own time comes." She left me then and retired to her own room, leaving me mulling over her words that were so similar to my mothers.

The stirring of the girl in front of me pulled me out of my musing. Quickly, I hurried over to her.

"Rose?" I asked gently, placing my hand tenderly on her cheek.

"What do you want?" She grumbled, not opening her eyes to me.

"You," I breathed. "Come back with me Rose."

Finally, she opened those beautiful brown eyes. But I didn't see any softness in them; I only saw a ruthless anger.

"Come back to have you tie me down this time?" She asked derisively. "Or come back to have you force me into doing things I won't do?"

"Please Rose," I muttered. "Not here. Let's take a walk."

She studied me suspiciously for several moments, before raising herself to her feet. I took my own cloak off and wrapped it around her shoulders, certain that she would decline. She looked as if she would but decided against it, following me into the cool night air.

"Rose, firstly, I owe you an apology," I told her. "My actions were inexcusable and improper."

"Is that it?" She asked incredulously. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Let me finish," I begged her, feeling grateful when she merely narrowed her eyes at me. She had a strand of hair blowing around her face and all I wanted to do was run it through my fingers, but I restrained myself.

"Rose, you have to understand that I was raised to believe women were stupid and had no rights," I told her, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "If it weren't for Russell, Alberta and my sisters, I probably would have still believed that."

"You're not that stupid, surely." Her voice was like acid.

"Rose, please," I begged. She finally remained silent.

"It's taken a long time for me to get out of that mindset," I informed her. "And sometimes I still slip. Like with you, I slipped. I'm sorry Rose; there's nothing more I can say, and I truly hope that you can forgive me one day."

She was silent, for the first time her eyes unfathomable. I once again had to repress the nasty voice in the back of my head asking me why I was explaining myself to a slave. She might be a slave, I justified to myself, but she is also a human, and she deserves the same treatment that I do.

"What do you want from me?" She finally asked, her voice hopeless. I frowned, the question something I had been asking myself since I had given her a bed in my own rooms.

"I don't know," I told her truthfully. "And I don't know what the future will hold. But I do know that I want to get to know you better Rose, and I want you to know me."

I leaned down to her much shorter height and kissed her cheek then, taking her hand and leading her back towards the palace. I was too preoccupied by her small, warm hand in mine to notice the audience that had gathered behind us.

"Do you think she will be good for him?" Eddie asked Russ, his brow furrowed in thought. He was returning to the barracks from guard duty and had come across the Prince speaking softly to the young girl.

Russ likewise had been standing in the shadows, watching the interaction between the two. He, too, appeared deep in thought.

"Yes, I do." He finally replied. "But I think a lot of people will stand in the way of allowing her to make him into the man he needs to be."

"I agree," Eddie whispered back. "She will need to be watched. I wouldn't put it past certain people," he said the word with disdain, "to use her to get to him."

"Aye, son." Russ sighed. "We'll keep an eye on the girl then."

I pulled Rose into my bedchamber, laying her on the bed next to me. She began to protest, but I was tired of staying away from her.

"Just, stay." I pleaded with her. "Please."

She grumbled next to me but buried herself deeper into my cloak, wrapping it around herself. Exhausted, I closed my eyes, comforted by the warmth next to me. I had never slept next to a woman before, only bedding them when my needs required. Lying next to Rose without any ulterior motive felt strange, but also nice. I heard her breathing even out next to me and knew she had dropped off to sleep again, so I took the opportunity to place my hand on her waist. She was thin but her gentle curve under my hand fit perfectly, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I had never been so taken with a female before in my life, and the thought of the future scared me. I didn't know whether things would go any further with Rose or what would happen between us, but I knew one thing for certain. I was going to unlock Rose's secrets if it was the last thing I did, and rebuild the confident, brave woman I had first encountered fleeing from my men in Andeep.

I was rudely awakened hours later by the incessant nagging of Lissa's voice. Groaning, I rolled onto my side only to encounter warm flesh. I opened my eyes to the figure of Rose huddled still in my cloak, and I smiled. This was definitely one of the better ways to wake up.

"Dimitri, get out of bed!" Lissa was fretting. She barely seemed to be batting an eyelid over the situation Rose and I had found ourselves in, and I wondered not for the first time who would really be surprised if we grew closer. Rose stirred then, burying herself deeper in the cloak to escape the noise.

"Oh no you don't," Lissa said grimly, pulling the material from Rose's face. She moaned, a mewling sound that made me grin.

"Don't you smile," Lissa turned on me, her anger diverted. "You have brunch with your sister's family in an hour and you still haven't got out of bed!"

"Damn!" I yelped, leaping from the bed quickly. Beside me, Rose rolled her eyes.

"Don't you look so amused," I told her. "You're coming with me."

Her mouth fell open in a comical 'O' expression. Even Lissa giggled as she threw herself from the bed even faster than I did.

"But why?" She asked, tripping to the bathing room. I averted my gaze as she began to unlace the robe Alberta had lent her.

"Because," I answered, "Anyone who knows me can see you're more than just my slave. And besides," I chuckled, "I don't really want to go on my own."

"Coward," she muttered as Lissa closed the door firmly on her.

"Rose?" Lissa questioned, her voice muffled through the door. "Where did you put the blue dress from yesterday?"

I cringed, waiting for the answer.

"I burnt it," Rose told her so noncommittally that I began to chuckle.

"You… what?" Lissa gasped, aghast.

"I burnt it," she repeated slowly. "I didn't like it."

"Why do I find that difficult to believe?" Lissa asked her dryly. I couldn't see anything as I pulled my own pants on, but I could imagine Rose shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. The thought made me smile.

It was nearly a full hour later that I entered the dining hall, Rose tucked under my arm. She looked dazzling in a dark green gown that clinched at her waist, with her hair wrapped in a long braid. I wore my customary black, and as I pushed open the doors, I knew we looked good together.

"Dimka!" My sister, Karolina, threw herself at me before I had a chance to gain my bearings. She was a small woman with the same dark hair and eyes that we shared, her skin porcelain. I hadn't seen her since she had married into the Badica family a year ago, a prominent family in Thraln. Andrew, her husband, was a loyal man and brave to a fault, and I had been pleased with the match; they both seemed to care for one another.

"Karo," I smiled, leaning down to embrace her. "It's been too long."

So caught up in my greeting, I didn't notice Rose freeze beside me. I didn't notice her hand drop from my arm, and her face go slack and pale. Looking up, I glanced around the table over Karolina's head. My father was nowhere in sight, but my mother was chatting happily to Viktoria. On her left was Andrew, and on his left was another couple. They both had blonde hair and were beautiful, with the girl adorned on her cheek with a golden lily tattoo. The man, dressed in the customary black of Thraln, had green eyes that glinted with mirth as he held the woman's hand. My curiosity was piqued as I stared at them, and Karolina followed my gaze.

"That's Andrew's younger sister, Sydney," Karolina smiled. "She's engaged to the man next to her. His name is-"

"Adrian?"

The problem was, the voice hadn't come from Karolina. It had come, softly and brokenly, from the lips of another woman in the room, the woman standing next to me. Realisation dawned upon me suddenly as I watched recognition grow in his eyes, followed by a very guilty expression grace his face. He half stood, before setting his jaw and sitting once more next to the blonde girl, who was suddenly very interested in her nails.

Adrian Ivashkov. The man Rose had loved. The man she believed had died was sitting right in front of us, to be married to my sister in law.

Could things get any worse?

* * *

><p>Whew, and there you have it folks. Our lovely ladies man Adrian has made a reappearance and its with Sydney, after Rose has been mourning him for so long. What do you think will happen now? Do you think she will ever forgive him? And what about poor Dimitri, now caught up in a love triangle? Please review and let me know what you think will happen :)<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Hi guys!

Well, uni is all but over for the semester, only exams left now so hopefully I will be able to update this regularly! This chapter is a little longer than the rest but really sets things up for me later in the story, before anybody asks I am also avoiding too much sexual themes in this because i want the story to be more important than the rest. You can pretty much infer what is happening anyway, and hey, if you want a sex story there are so many others out there. I hope you enjoy this chapter :-) And just so you know, the sooky nature of Adrian always irritated me, which is why I've taken this kind of angle.

I do not own VA.

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

"Adrian?"

His name fell unbidden from my lips as I took in his familiar features. His dark blonde hair and green eyes, that lanky frame… It seemed like yesterday that he had been with me, allowing me to run my hands through that hair, holding my hands the way he now held hers. He looked well, I thought bitterly as I studied him, with his groomed hair and expensive tunic. Much better than he ever would have ever looked if he had stayed with me at any rate.

I watched as his crystalline eyes rose to meet my own, the green gems alighting with recognition and guilt. He rose to his feet, his tall frame leaning towards me, before he gritted his teeth and sat down next to the blonde girl again. His eyes flickered to her and softened, but he caught himself and returned his gaze to me.

It was too late thought. I had seen him.

"You!" I gasped, at a total loss for words. This man merely a year ago had been my everything, and now he sat at the King of Thraln's dining table, dressed in the black of a nation that wasn't his own, after I had spent a year mourning him, waiting each and every day for him to return to me.

Yet he never had, but it wasn't because he was dead. No, the reason he had abandoned me lay sitting merely ten feet from me.

"Rosemarie," he uttered, my full name falling from his lips awkwardly. He looked exceptionally uncomfortable in that moment, and my head finally caught up with my heart, anger flooding my veins.

I snorted, my eyes on fire.

"I mourned for you," I hissed at him, stepping forward and slamming the heels of my hands on the table. "I prayed for your return." I slapped my hands down again, aware that everybody was watching us intently. "I cried for you!" I yelled, staring straight at him.

"I know Rose, I know, I-"

"No, you don't know." I told him quietly, so softly that he cringed away from me. "You don't know how many nights I lay, hungry and cold, wanting nothing except for you to return. You don't know how much hatred I bore towards the Imperials for causing your death. You don't know how many times I cried for you."

"But," he tried to interject again.

"But nothing!" I yelled. "But nothing Ivashkov! I gave you everything I had, and you abandoned me!"

"No, Rose, I-"

"Just like my mother," I hissed at him. "Just like my father," I hit the table once more. "Just like every godforsaken person I have ever loved, you abandoned me. Except," I told him, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. "You had a choice."

I turned on my heel then and walked to Olena, bowing my head before her. I was surprised to see pity and anger in her face, pity for me and anger at Adrian. She reached out and clasped my hand when I was close enough.

"If you'll excuse me, your majesty," I asked her earnestly, "I don't believe I can be in the same room with this man at the present time."

"Of course, Rose." She answered, her voice tender. I didn't look up because I knew that if I saw the gentleness in her eyes, I would be undone. "Take all the time you need."

It was with grace and poise that I walked from the dining hall this time, unlike my mad dash the day before. As soon as I exited the room I heard the roar of voices yelling over one another from behind me, but I ignored it. I knew I wouldn't be returning to eat with any of the royals today, and so I trudged down the palace steps to the practise fields. It didn't take me long to spot Eddie as he hammered his sword into a wooden target again and again, and I smiled.

"Hey, Rose!" He hollered when he finally realised he had an audience. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping I could get in a little practise," I admitted to him ruefully. "I'm a little wound up and it's been a while since I used a sword."

"Dressed like that?" He asked, wiping sweat from his brow and looking me up and down quizzically. I flushed; I was still dressed in my formal attire.

"About that…" I hinted.

If Edison was anything, he was smart, and a slow and infectious grin spread across his face.

"Come on, girl," he ribbed, sheathing his sword. "Let's see what we can do about that dress of yours."

DPOV

I rubbed my fist wearily, trampling down the urge to punch Ivashkov square in the mouth. I couldn't stand that he had hurt Rose; the look on her face when she had seen him had been so full of pain that then and there I had wanted to kiss her and make it better. I wasn't the only one who was angry about the situation; Viktoria was shouting obscenities that she had no right knowing about at the blonde man, and Olena's mouth was pressed into a hard, thin line. Andrew looked remorseful and Karolina uncertain when I finally interrupted the hubbub.

"ENOUGH!" I roared, my voice loud enough to quieten the tumult. "How about we let Adrian speak before we make any hasty comments, yes?" I asked, looking pointedly at Vika. She stared back at me, completely unabashed by her behaviour.

"Please, it's not what it looks like," Adrian began, but I cut him off.

"Look," I told him, my voice hard. "Nobody here wants to hear your defence or sob story. We want to know who you are and how you wound up engaged to Sydney, and why on earth you left Rose."

He sighed, taking Sydney's hand once more. She looked pale but driven, and I realised then that she had known all along about Rose. I fought back a snarl; the thought made me angry.

"I never intended to hurt Rose," he began, "she was the girl I loved." He had begun strong, so I sat down and prepared myself for a long speech.

"She was my best friend," he continued, "and I loved her. She had nobody when we met, her parents had both died and she was a living on the streets. The tenacity of that girl though," he smiled, lost in his memories. "She never did give up, and did a damn fine job at looking after herself for only having seen fifteen summers."

I sat upright at that piece of information, soaking up as much as I could about Rose's life before now.

"When war was declared against Thraln, I had a choice." Adrian's voice grew soft with remorse now. "I told Rose that enlisting was compulsory, but in reality it wasn't. She knew little about war, even though she lived through her own personal battle each and every day. And she trusted me, which helped." He sighed and quieted.

"So, why did you leave?" I asked him, growing impatient.

"In Andeep, if Rose and I had have remained we would have undoubtedly married," he told me. "And, well, I wasn't ready for that. I was only eighteen summers and I wanted to see the world, wanted to become rich and make a name for myself. As much as I loved Rose, I couldn't see myself tied down to her at such a young age. She was so headstrong and so damn fiery, and we clashed constantly. So even though I loved her I left, intending all the while to return when she was grown a little, when I had a little money behind me to support us."

I felt strangely jealous as Adrian recounted this part of his tale, my nerves frayed. The thought of anybody else settling with Rose made my hackles rise, but I fought down the emotion and continued to listen as Adrian's eyes took on a sad expression.

"The army didn't bring the kind of glory I was seeking though," he told us. "The money was poor and some of the things I saw I could never forget. We were fighting in Mawar when I was stabbed in the chest." He grimaced, as did I. Mawar was a larger village in Thraln on the border of Ilore, and the battle there had been bloody. "I was left to die on the outskirts of the village by your army when she found me."

"Who?" Vika interrupted.

"Sydney," he told me. "She was like an angel taking me to heaven with her blonde halo," he murmured, her face flushing with his words. "She nursed me back to health in your sister's home and I fell deeply in love with her."

Sydney smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand, but one part of the story was still bugging me. Apparently, it was still bothering my mother also.

"And what about Rose?" Olena asked, her voice tight. "Did you forget about her?"

Adrian's face turned an interesting shade of red at her words.

"No, I never forgot," he admitted. "But I figured that letting her believe I had died would be better than telling her that I had found my true partner and couldn't be with her anymore."

"So letting her mourn for you was the best solution?" I asked sharply.

He looked at me, his green eyes full of regret.

"I made a mistake, okay?" he finally confessed. "I never meant to hurt Rose, but I truly never thought I'd see her again. Seeing her today was just as much of a shock for me as it was for her, you know?"

I was suddenly sick of the selfish bastard in front of me.

"No," I growled, rising to my feet and leaning over his across the table. He shrank back under my glare.

"No," I repeated in his face. "You at least knew she was alive. She's been holding onto nothing but memories of you that have been haunting her, so I don't know how this was more of a shock to you."

I slammed my hand flat on the table, causing him to jump. Sydney remained calm though, and I knew she must have been expecting such a reaction.

"Before you do anything rash, your highness," she murmured to me as I turned to leave. "Remember that you can't control who you love."

I ignored her comment and followed Rose's lead by heading through the door. I couldn't believe the bad luck that I had been given; why couldn't I just have an ordinary day with the people I loved? Sighing, my feet instinctively carried me down the stone entrance to the palace, the guards nodding their heads respectfully as I passed. I knew where Rose would have gone if she was upset or angry, and therefore I wasn't surprised when I saw her standing across from Eddie. I was shocked however, to see her wielding a sword in her right hand, but before I could shout at her to halt a hand stopped me.

"Don't," the black haired knight told me. If it had been anybody else, I would have ignored them, but I trusted this man with my life. I had known Christian Ozera since I was a boy, and we had grown up together, he living in the castle with me after his parents had died. Moira and Lucas Ozera had been killed in a fire that suspiciously left little evidence as to what the cause may have been, and my mother had taken Chris in out of pity. My best friend and the brother I never had was now a fine young man, tall and lanky with shaggy black hair and ice blue eyes. He definitely attracted female attention yet shunned it, which I suspected may have had something to do with my blonde haired maid. I had never brought the subject up though, knowing that if I was correct Chris would be embarrassed and confused about Lissa.

"Why not?" I asked him, curious as to what had attracted the usually inattentive Ozera's mind.

"Watch," he told me, his voice quiet. Christian was naturally a quiet man, but he seemed almost awed. After turning my eyes to the scene before me, I understood why.

Rose and Edison were locked in an elegant dance of strength and grace, stepping around one another as their weapons clashed and glinted in the sunlight. Rose was dressed once again in male britches and a tunic, belted at the waist with a bit of rope, whilst Eddie wore the customary black of a knight. Her hair whipped back in her braid with the breeze, her eyes locked on Eddie's every single move. Eddie was a master swordsman and even I struggled to defeat him often enough, but Rose was a natural with her blade. Even as I watched she darted forward, quick as a snake, forcing Edison to block frantically and step away from her blade. He countered with a swift underhanded parry, which was blocked with ease by Rose who used her advantage to step fluidly around the knight and attack him from behind. I watched, entranced as they danced for an endless time, the battle only ending when Eddie overstretched and Rose knocked his weapon from his hand, whipping it to sit at his throat.

"Dead," I heard her tell him, and a wide grin broke out on his face as the men began to cheer.

"Yes," he told her, laughing. "Dead. Damn Rose, I haven't had a fight like that in a long time."

"Hey," I called to him, swinging my long body underneath the fence and into the arena. "What was that?"

"Nothing, your highness," he replied with a smile, wiping sweat from his face. Rose too was sweating, but she looked much more relaxed and carefree than I had ever seen her before.

"May I?" I asked, extending my hand to her. She smirked at me and slung the blade over her hip, instead marching straight past my outstretched offering. I watched after her in bemusement as the men around me laughed. How on earth was I going to tame such a wild spirit?

I followed Rose into the stables once more, where I presumed she had left her clothing. Sure enough, on the door to the tack room the beautiful green dress was laid out without a single wrinkle, fluttering slowly in the breeze. I shook my head in amusement; the girl was going to be the death of me.

Rose sat on a hay bale and began to take off her shoes, so I followed suit. I didn't care about the clothes I was wearing but Rose clearly did, frowning at me.

"I'll dob you in to Lissa," she warned me as I lounged back on the bale. Laughing, I reached out and ruffled her hair, leaving her looking disgruntled.

"You know as well as I do that if Vasilisa had nobody to nag she would go crazy," I joked.

"Hmph," she grunted, struggling to pull of the boot that was slightly too small for her foot.

"Here, allow me." Before I knew what I was doing I was on my knees, shuffling the boot bit by bit off her foot. The atmosphere changed from relaxed to intense then, as we both realised what was coming.

I was the first to broach the topic, and I tried to keep my voice light.

"So, Rosemarie hmm?" I asked her, a small smile playing around my mouth. She grew still above me, her eyes drifting to stare at the wall.

"I left that name behind long ago," she told me wistfully.

"it's a beautiful name," I told her truthfully. "But it doesn't suit you."

"It's too… flowery," she admitted. "It isn't me."

"No," I agreed, jiggling her leg around slightly. "Rose suits you much better."

She grew quiet then, and I lowered my eyes. I knew after everything I had done that I could hardly expect her to bare her soul to me, but I knew that if I waited long enough she would speak. Sure enough, I was right.

"I thought he was dead," she said softly, still looking at the wall. "I thought your people had killed him."

"I almost wish we had," I told her. "Better for you to think him dead than know this."

"He promised he would never leave," she said sadly, a hitch in her voice. My jealousy reared its ugly head but I ignored it. "He promised he would come back."

"Not all people keep their promises," I replied, my voice hard. "And it isn't limited to where you come from either."

"I know," she told me, her voice becoming louder now. "But it doesn't mean it hurts any less."

We were interrupted by the sound of footfalls and I let my struggles with her boot falter, turning to see who the new arrival was. I had to stop my mouth from falling open when Ivashkov walked into the room, hands raised above his head in surrender. I wanted nothing more than to punch the arrogant twit in the nose right then.

"Rose, I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he said, his eyes flickering nervously to me. I rose to my feet, knowing I looked imposing as I towered above his frame. It was Rose's hand resting on my arm that held me back.

"Dimitri, don't," she told me.

The thrill of her calling me by my name was both exhilarating and frightening. Under different circumstances I would probably have kissed her, but I had to settle for mellowing under her touch. Her voice speaking my name sounded like honey, smooth and soft, and by far hearing her say it was better than hearing any one of the few people I trusted speak it. Underneath the thrill was a soft glow of happiness and success though; by calling me by my name, she was acknowledging for the first time that I meant something to her.

My face must have shown my feelings however, as Ivashkov's eyebrows rose as he watched my face. Unable to keep his mouth shut and realise the danger, he spoke the words I knew he had been dying to.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who moved on quickly, huh Rose," he told her spitefully.

I leapt forward to punch him then, intent on beating him to a pulp despite his relation to my sister, but to my total surprise I was beaten to it. Rose, nimble and fast on her feet, darted under my arm and before Ivashkov or I could stop her, smashed her fist into his mouth. He emitted a groan of agony and dropped to the ground, but she wasn't done with him yet.

"That," she hissed, "is for abandoning me." She kicked him in the shins next. "That is for the lies," she continued, "and that," she rounded off, socking him in the stomach, "is for daring to accuse me of being capable of the same disgusting act as you."

I almost felt sorry for Ivashkov as, eyes blazing, Rose stormed from the room. He was moaning on the ground, clutching his face, stomach and leg in rotation, and I had to stop myself from laughing. The sight was comical. Finally taking pity on the man, I roughly hoisted him to his feet. Seeing him beaten up by Rose had massively improved my mood.

"Come on," I told him, my voice mocking. "Let's go back inside."

"I can't," he told me in panic. "I don't want them to see that I was beaten up by a girl!"

Abruptly, my mood soured.

"You should feel proud to have even captured the attention of Rose at all," I growled at him, "And you damn well deserved what she gave you and more. So you will walk inside and you will tell them exactly what happened to you."

He must have sensed something in my voice because he gulped, his green eyes sliding away from mine. I shoved him towards the door in disgust, ready to carry him back to my family if necessary. I would find Rose later and show her my appreciation; for now, however, I had to try and clean up the mess that this man had made of the gathering.

ROSE POV

I was so blindingly furious when I left the stables that my head felt like it was about to explode. How dare he? How dare he accuse of moving on so quickly after him? Any feelings of sorrow I had held towards Adrian vanished in that moment; the man I had loved was gone, replaced with a despicable human being that I didn't want to know.

Still wearing men's clothing made it easier for me to blend in to the village, where I matched the rough clothing of the townsfolk. Beautiful dresses and fine jewellery would have stood out in the lower class environment, and I was glad that nobody was looking at me twice. To my surprise, I felt more relaxed here than I did in the palace. Village life was something I was accustomed to, and I felt myself calming down as I smelled familiar scents and watched familiar actions.

In front of me, two young boys were fighting with wooden swords. I leaned against a pole and watched them, a smile on my face. With their clumsy movements and barely concealed grimaces as they accidentally made contact with one another, they reminded me of Mason and I growing up. I was confused, so confused now. Part of my hatred towards the Imperials had stemmed from Adrian's loss, and sure I still blamed them for the loss of my life, freedom and the people I loved, but that anger had lessened. Watching the two boys, the memories came back, unbidden, of my life in Andeep.

Hunger, coldness and loneliness had permeated most of my existence since I was fourteen and my mother had died. My father, he had disappeared a year before, and my Mother had never been the same. When people asked I told them that my mother had died, but the true reality was that she had killed herself. Janine, suffering from loneliness and grief at the loss of my father, Abe, had taken her own life. Unable to keep the farm, I had been left abandoned on the streets, using run down stables and the porches of other people to cover me from the elements. I had learnt to defend myself and often stole to survive; the only friends I had could never stay, and they were far outnumbered by those that sought to seek advantage of a young girl.

Looking back on that, I couldn't justify the notion that what the Imperials had done was any worse than what my own people had done. Belikov had at least taken me in, given me food and shelter and tried to look after me, even if he had his flaws. No, not Belikov, I corrected. His name was Dimitri, and he deserved to be given a name just as much as anybody else. My own people had left me to starve on the streets, and whilst technically I was a slave now, I had never really been entirely free.

One of the boys yelled then triumphantly, holding his wooden sword to the other's throat. The beaten boy, smaller and weaker than the first, looked so crestfallen that I almost went to comfort him, but I refrained. Shortly after, when the bigger boy, boasting and proud, had run back down the streets, I approached the younger one.

"You know, you could have beaten him," I told him.

"Ha," he scoffed. Now that I was closer to him, I could see that he was older than I had originally thought, maybe thirteen or fourteen. "Nobody can beat Noah. He's the strongest."

"Just because he's the strongest doesn't mean he's the best," I admonished. "What's your name?"

"I'm Karl," he answered after a pause. I didn't blame him; I knew what it was like to not trust strangers.

"How old are you?"

"I'm thirteen," he admitted. "But everyone treats me like I'm a kid because I haven't grown big yet."

"Well Karl," I told him, "let me show you what you can do to beat Noah next time."

We practised until the sun began to dip below the horizon and a small crowd of children had gathered around me, all begging me to teach them the same moves. Even their parents, weary and battered, had small smiles on their faces as they watched their children enjoying themselves. After a long time and a lot of whining later, I was finally able to extract myself from the clutches of them, laughing, and make my way towards the castle.

What I hadn't noticed though was the pair of eyes watching me closely, covered by a cowled hood. If I had I would have known to watch myself in the future, to be afraid of the hungry gleam directed at me. Yet I didn't, and oblivious, I skipped back to the castle with most of my thoughts of anger and frustration gone, unaware that I had just painted a large target on my back.

The prince was sitting at his desk when I entered his chambers, poring over a piece of parchment. When he heard me he looked up, looking both tired but amused.

"You look like you've had a good day," I told him drily.

"Well, it was an interesting day," he countered, fighting a smirk. Scoffing at him, I began to make my way across the room, laughing when my stomach rumbled loudly. I had missed lunch after all.

"Here," he interrupted, pushing a bowl towards me. "I figured you might be hungry. You're always hungry."

I wordlessly took the food, perching myself on the end of the bed. We had become more comfortable around one another, which was a relief for me.

"So, you created an uproar today," he told me conversationally.

"Oh?" I asked around a mouth full of food.

"Karolina hit him as soon as we returned," he said, a small chuckle escaping him. "And I'm almost certain my mother would have if Andrew hadn't stepped in."

"Well, at least it's not just me," I giggled.

"He's an ass, Rose," he told me, his voice gentle. "Mother asked him to leave, and nobody argued against it. He isn't welcome."

"Don't force them out on my account," I defended awkwardly. "I'm not that special."

"Rose, you have no idea how special you are," he whispered. I looked up to find his eyes boring into mine, their brown alight with passion.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I found I couldn't breathe. Waking up next to him that morning had been pleasant, and I had almost wished his arms had been around me instead of wrapped around his pillow. Now that I wasn't caught up on Adrian, I was able to fully appreciate the beauty of the man in front of me, from his muscular shoulders to his trim figure, from his chiselled face to his beautiful eyes. He exuded power but had been increasingly gentle with me, and before I knew it I had leaned towards him.

Dimitri reached for me, running a finger slowly down my cheekbone. I shivered under his touch, waiting in anticipation as he slowly drew closer. My inhibitions towards him had all but dispersed; Adrian's reappearance had quelled most of my bitterness, and I found the remainder was now aimed at the man that had truly ordered the massacres of so many innocents; Sergei. That thought was shunted to the side as his warm lips pressed gently into mine. The feeling of the Prince kissing me made me both warm and chilled, an exhilaration that left me breathless. His hands moved to my waist as he pushed me into the bed, growing more passionate as he bunched my hair beneath him. My last coherent thought was that I would surely go to hell for this, before I gave in to the feelings that Dimitri evoked within me.

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><p>Whew, there we go. It's about 5000 words long yes, but I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please read and review and let me know what you think of this; the story is going to turn a little darker soon so please let me know where you want things to go and what you liked about this chapter!<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey all!**

**Firstly, I apologise for the delay. Law school and full time work as well as learning two extra languages makes life difficult for me sometimes; I've barely had time to sleep. I will try and pick up the pace a little; thank you for sticking with me.  
><strong>

**Wow! I am so glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Thought a few people on team Adrian may have reacted badly to that one but I've always thought he was a bit of a pansy to be honest.. Okay, so to address a few questions.**

**Firstly, the hooded figure and their identity will be revealed at the end of this chapter if all goes to plan… as for Rose and Dimitri, they still have a bit of a love/hate relationship, don't want to have them jumping into things too soon. I probably will include a mature scene later on also, but for the rating of this I have to be careful; what do you think, should I have a bit of a lemon somewhere?**

**I really am so so happy that everyone is enjoying this, it's barely gotten into the meatier stuff though so we will see how we go**

**I do not own VA.**

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

The first thing I remembered when I awoke was Adrian.

The second thing I remembered when I awoke was Dimitri.

It was pretty safe to say that, rolling over and feeling the warmth of the Prince next to me, most of my thoughts of Adrian were soon forgotten. Dimitri was snoring lightly, the sound slightly annoying yet endearing at the same time. The sun was streaming in behind Belikov's curtains and I realised that it was late in the morning, maybe almost afternoon; for the first time since I had been taken by the Imperials, I had actually been allowed to sleep.

Dimitri rolled towards me, his large hand clutching possessively at my hip. I snorted with laughter before stifling the sound with my hand; even in his sleep he was controlling. A frown puckered the corners of his eyes, and he groaned.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked him softly in case he was only dreaming.

"A while," he replied, his chest rumbling behind me.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I asked.

"Because I was enjoying myself," he drawled, a lazy smile gracing his face. Turning to face him, I smiled. The blankets were thrown over his torso, his hair a wild mess framing his face. He had a day old growth of stubble on his jaw, and his eyes were closed. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.

"Like what you see?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I blushed. "How do you know I'm looking at you?" I challenged, my face uncomfortably warm.

"I'm psychic," he returned factually.

"Did you just try to crack a joke?" I asked in disbelief. "Because it was pathetic."

"Ah Rose," he smiled, finally opening his eyes. "What would I do without your wit around me? I'd become complacent."

"I don't think complacency is an issue," I grumbled, yelping when he pulled his arms around my waist and crushed me to him. "Dim-"

I was cut off by his lips covering mine. Just as had happened the night before, a tingle shot through my body as our lips met. I relaxed into his embrace, moving my lips in sync with his. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat before pulling away.

"You're so beautiful," he told me huskily.

"And you are a suck hole," I replied. Laughing, he rolled my body underneath his.

"I don't hear you complaining," he growled.

We were interrupted by a soft knocking on Dimitri's door. Groaning, he rolled off of me and readjusted the blankets around us.

"Are you decent?" Lissa's voice was immediately noticeable, full of amusement as she backed into the room with her eyes closed.

"No," Dimitri drawled, possessively clutching my hand in his. I flushed red as Lissa studied us, a goofy grin stretching her beautiful face.

"Good night, your highness?" She asked.

"The best," he returned, smirking at my embarrassment.

"Your father has requested your presence at the meeting with King Ozera in an hour," Lissa informed him. "So you best get out of bed."

"I can't catch a break," Dimitri grumbled, muttering a few choice words as he darted into the bathing chamber. I almost blushed again at his lack of modesty; the man had no shame.

"And Viktoria has requested you join her for tea with the ladies," Lissa told me, interrupting my reverie. It was my turn to groan then; I had been enjoying my relaxed day.

"Do I have to?" I asked petulantly.

"Yes," she told me firmly. "You are a lady of this Court now, and gods above know what Lady Viktoria would do if she was left with Ladies Ozera and Ivashkov alone."

"Natasha and Sydney?" I clarified, my mood plummeting.

"Who else?" Lissa asked, pulling me from the sheets unceremoniously. "So we best make you presentable."

"Liss, why don't you ever join them?" I asked. "You've been here much longer than I have."

"That's not how things are done here," Lissa told me sadly. "Servants don't have a place in high society."

"I don't think you are a servant but," I told her.

"Thanks Rose," she replied, giving me a small smile. "That's nice to hear sometimes."

"What's nice to hear?" Dimitri asked, appearing from the chamber wearing only a black pair of pants. My eyes were immediately drawn to his sculpted chest, but my head was yanked around by Lissa before I could get a good look.

"Stop distracting her," she scolded disapprovingly. "I don't have a lot of time as it is."

Dimitri chuckled, pulling a cream tunic over his head. "Yes, Vasilisa," he agreed.

Listening to their banter cheered my mood. It was clear that they had spent a lot of time together, and their friendship was a good one. Dimitri didn't treat Lissa as a servant and she didn't treat him as a Prince; it gave me hope for what Thraln might one day become.

Lost in thought, I was startled when Lissa pulled the strings of a cream corset tight behind my back. I gasped, still unused to the fashion of Thraln.

"Is that really necessary?" I gasped.

"If you want to rub shoulders with the likes of Ozera, yes." She told me mercilessly. She then pulled a black gown from the hanger behind her.

"Black?" I asked, uncomfortable with this turn of events. I could see Dimitri stiffen from where he was lacing his sleeves, but didn't divert my attention from Lissa.

"Black," she confirmed. "I know to you, it seems like you are declaring allegiance to Thraln. But to the women, you will be wearing Belikov's colours."

"So declaring allegiance to Dimitri?" I asked edgily.

Lissa paused from where she was braiding my hair and kneeled in front of me.

"Rose, you don't quite understand things yet," she told me ruefully. "But in this place, every single move you make will be seen as a declaration of sorts. You have power in that you spend time around Dimitri; by wearing his colours, you will be seen to be protected by him."

"Oh," I muttered stupidly.

"Besides," Lissa continued, her voice forcibly cheerful. "You look stunning in black."

Ten minutes later, staring at my reflection, I couldn't help but agree with Lissa. Black complemented my dark features and gave me a striking, fierce appearance. It was exactly what I needed for a day with Ozera, a sentiment that Dimitri agreed with.

"That animal won't say a word to you," Belikov murmured in my ear, wrapping his long arms around my waist. I scoffed.

"She wouldn't want to," I muttered.

"She's got nothing on you, Roza." He told me tenderly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

It was that tenderness I clung to as, what seemed like moments later, I was entering Viktoria's solar suite. The soft chatter of voices could be heard, and I stamped down my nervousness. I had lived through wars; I could certainly face a few gossiping women. To my relief, the bright room was still free from Natasha, although Sydney was seated towards the corner of the rooms. I relaxed slightly when I saw Viktoria and Mia engaged in an active conversation and made my way towards them.

"Yes, but Lord Roland is so much more attractive," Viktoria was arguing.

"But he's a pig!" Mia countered. "I would rather end up with Aaron Drozdov than him!"

"Rose!" Viktoria exclaimed, finally noticing me. "Thank god you came!"

"And, you look beautiful, as always," Mia agreed, eyeing me speculatively. "A nice choice in colour, that."

Mia was dressed in a plain cream gown, as neutral as could be expected. Yet she seemed to approve of my attire. Internally, I vowed to thank Lissa the next opportunity I had.

"The she-thing still hasn't arrived, if that who you are looking for," Viktoria laughed as my head shot up at the arrival of two other ladies. One was pale, with light brown hair and green eyes, dressed in a pale blue. The second had blue eyes and auburn hair, and wore a flowing green gown.

"Let me introduce Jillian Mastrano and Angeline Dawes," Mia said. "Jill is engaged to Edison, the knight you met with Belikov."

"So this is Eddie's girl?" I asked, studying her. The girl's eyes met mine and she smiled shyly at me without judgement, immediately endearing her to me.

"She's quiet, but nice enough," Mia explained dismissively. "Angeline is a firecracker, but you will get along with her just fine. She hates Ozera almost as much as you."

"I don't hate her," I automatically defended, but trailed off when the door opened once more. The black haired viper entered in all her glory, regal and obnoxious. She sneered at me as she flounced past, choosing to seat herself in the corner near Sydney. The corners of Sydney's lips curled ever so slightly as she did so, lessening my antagonism towards her ever so slightly. The woman couldn't be so bad if she couldn't stand Ozera.

The tension in the room was broken as Viktoria gestured for delicacies to be brought in. Small cakes, teas and sugared candies filled the tables in front of me as servants silently appeared and disappeared just as quickly. I felt uncomfortable with the formality of it all, but tried to follow Mia's lead; she was relaxed into her chair, smiling happily.

"So, Rose," Ozera began the minute the room was clear once again. The other women fell silent, interested in our exchange. "How does it feel to have been rejected for Sydney?"

Sydney shifted uncomfortably next to her, her eyes alighting in anger. Viktoria also opened her mouth to speak, but I beat them to it.

"It hurts much less than you being rejected for me must," I told her sweetly. Sydney's cheeks twitched and Jill choked on a sip of her tea, and as Natasha's cheekbones turned a bright red I knew I had won a temporary reprieve.

"How are the wedding plans coming along?" Mia asked Jill, ever the diplomat. Relieved, I sank back into the plush chair as the gossip began to flow freely. I could feel Natasha's glare burning a hole into my face, but I refused to look at her. Instead, I turned my attention to Sydney. It was now or never.

"So, what is it like, Mawar?"

She turned her green gaze to meet mine, appearing startled at my attentions.

"What you'd expect, I suppose." She answered, mulling over her words. "The war takes its toll, and we are still rebuilding from the last battle." She wisely chose not to mention more on this topic; Dimitri had warned me that it was then Adrian and Sydney had met.

"Is it as, dreary, as the surroundings here?" I asked.

"Not at all," she gushed, becoming more animated. "Mawar is so much more lively. The trees, they blossom in the warm months, and the grass grows long and green. Adrian says it reminds him of where he grew up." She clamped her hand over her mouth then, appearing absolutely mortified.

"Oh yes, Rose would know what Adrian's homeland looks like," Natasha inserted slyly, narrowing her eyes. "After all, they do share a history."

Ignoring the bait, I refused to take my eyes off of Sydney. "Andeep was a very beautiful village," I told her truthfully. She nodded her head at me and smiled, but it was her eyes that gave away her gratitude.

"I am sorry for your loss," she told me sincerely, and I knew she was talking about more than the razing of the village. I nodded my head at her, before turning my attention back to Viktoria and Mia. If I wasn't mistaken, I had just gained myself another ally.

The rest of the afternoon passed largely without incident. The gossip of the court didn't appeal to me, and more often than not I found myself sinking into my own thoughts. Dimitri figured most prominently, and I caught myself wondering what would happen from here. He was a Prince and I was his 'courtesan'- at the very least, his slave. There was no way the feelings he gave me now would be allowed to continue once he ascended to the throne, or once he was required to marry. I knew this, but it didn't stop the depression I felt at the thought of Dimitri being with another woman. I understood how Lissa felt, and I hated it.

It was only when Angeline excused herself that I felt it may be polite to leave. Viktoria looked at me pleadingly as I rose to my feet, but I merely smirked at her. To my surprise, Natasha rose with me. I suppressed a sigh as she simperingly expressed her gratitude to Viktoria, who rolled her eyes when the woman turned her back. Knowing I had no other choice, I exited the rooms with Natasha by my side.

"Rose, before I depart, I want to wish you good luck," Natasha told me. Her high voice was pompous and amused, and I was instantly on high alert.

"Good luck with what?" I asked, my tone flat and cold.

"With Dimka, of course!" She exclaimed. "You're going to need it. Slave girls never end up with the Prince."

"I don't see how that is any of your business," I told her acerbically.

"Oh, it will be," she laughed. "Because when I am Crown Princess of Thraln, you will be the first thing I take care of."

Unable to contain my anger, I strode away from the woman. She flicked her black hair over her shoulder at me and smiled coldly, but I ignored her. I wasn't going to stoop to the level she wanted me to; she might have won this battle, but I vowed to win the war.

"Watch your back, _Roza!" _She called mockingly after me. "You never know who is watching!"

I had barely made it three flights of stairs when a familiar shout caught my attention. Picking up my pace, I rounded a marble pillar in the royal wing to come face to face with a standoff between Dimitri and King Sergei. Dimitri was standing over Sergei, his face flushed and angry.

"I refuse!" He bellowed. Instinctively, I hid behind the corner of the hall. Something told me I didn't want to be caught listening to this conversation.

"You will do your duty to your people. An alliance between Scandina and Thraln will ensure peace for our future."

"That's bull!" Dimitri countered bitterly. "You know as well as I do that Ronald Ozera will suck Thraln dry if he can. A marriage would only give him the handholds to do that!"

"Nonetheless, we can't afford to have a war between both of our neighbouring nations." Sergei was strangely calm. "Therefore, you will arrange a betrothal with Lady Natasha Ozera."

"I will not." Dimitri was resolute. "I will not marry that foul creature!"

"She wasn't foul when you took her to bed, before you met that slave girl," Sergei stated, and I had to stifle a gasp. Dimitri had taken Ozera to his chambers?

"That was a mistake," Dimitri yelled, still angry. "I will not marry her!"

"You will do what you must!" Sergei retorted, raising his voice slightly. "I will not have our nation ripped apart for the sake of your happiness!"

I heard footsteps then, and flung myself into a nearby alcove just as the King walked past. He was thankfully preoccupied and didn't notice me, leaving me to step out as Dimitri rounded the corner behind him. He stopped short of me, his cheeks red and his face flushed, breathing heavily.

"So, done eavesdropping yet?" He asked, his voice angry.

"I honestly didn't mean to, I had to get away from Natasha," I told him truthfully. The truth didn't seem to matter to him though.

"Stop trying to control my life!" he growled at me. Confused at his irrational thoughts, I frowned.

"What?" I asked him, perplexed.

"Why can't you just leave me in peace?" He yelled. Backed against the wall, I could only flinch as his fist came crashing startlingly close to my face.

"My life was simple before you!" He continued, pounding the second arm on the other side. I flinched, trying frantically to meet his eyes. But when I did, I only saw rage. "It was easy. I didn't have to think, or feel. But you changed all of that, and I hate you for it!"

"Dimitri, stop!" I gasped as he roughly grabbed my arms and threw me to the ground. I had seen his rages before, but never had I been the only person around, never had I been the only one on the receiving end.

"Why?" he mocked. "Why should I? You are my slave; I will treat you how I want!"

I cried out again as he pulled me to my feet, shoving me back against the wall. He reached behind my head and roughly pulled my face towards him, meeting my terrified eyes.

"And I will do with you what I want, Roza." He purred. He shoved my shoulders together and pushed me to the ground, standing over my crumpled form.

"You will kneel to me," he told me. "You will pledge your allegiance to me."

"No," I spat, tears in my eyes. "I trusted you. I will not pledge myself to a man like you. Not now, not ever!"

"Then don't return," he told me coldly. "Leave, and don't return."

Dimitri stalked down the hall, leaving me alone on the floor. Not for the first time, he had left me, alone and battered. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I tried to tell myself it didn't matter. Except I couldn't; I knew it did. Some part of me had become attached to him and the other people in this strange land, and even after only a week this was the only home I knew. Rising to my feet, I followed his lead towards the lower levels of the castle. I couldn't stay here; that much was certain. Not hours before he had been holding me in his arms, now he was demanding my servitude. Angrily, I tore at the black dress I still wore. All of this had been a mistake; I should have left when I had the chance.

Tearing off the expensive slippers that Lissa had placed on my feet that morning; I fled through the castle entrance, down the steps and through the gates. People stared at me as though I was crazy, but I couldn't escape fast enough. Even the frantic yells of the men I had come to know didn't stop me; I had to escape this place. In my anger however, I missed the shadow that detached itself from the castle gatehouse behind me.

I didn't stop running until, feet sore and bloody, I reached the edges of Verex. A cluster of haphazard buildings and some red, rocky soil was all that separated me from the endlessly lifeless plains, and the world beyond. I limped towards a deadened tree and sat beneath its skeletal branches, trying to seek some relief from the relentless rays of the sun. I had no water, no food, and no form of transport. I would undoubtedly die out there alone, but surprisingly the thought didn't scare me. Faced with a life of servitude or death, I would easily take the latter.

I knew it wouldn't be long until somebody asked after me; Dimitri's words would buy me some time, but not a lot. Caught in my thoughts, I missed the soft crackle of branches breaking from behind me, a sound that would forever haunt me thereafter. Little did I know then that my decision had been made for me; it wasn't until the rough hands grabbed at me that I realised something was terribly wrong.

Flinging myself from the grip of my attacker, I tumbled forward and landed roughly on my shoulder. My dress hampered my movements, and I wasn't able to spin my body in time to prevent the blow that landed on my stomach. Gasping, I tried to rise to my feet, but was once again constricted by my dress. The last thing I remembered before excruciating pain cut me off from the world was thinking that maybe I wouldn't be thanking Lissa after all.

* * *

><p>It was to total darkness that I awoke with a pain so intense in my head that I almost cried out. I stifled the sound instinctively, knowing that I needed any advantage over my attackers that I could get. Very slowly, I tried to move my arms and legs, but found they were bound. I was helpless, and a slither of fear began to seep down my spine.<p>

"Rose, how lovely of you to join us."

I winced at the sudden light that appeared at an opening to my left. As it streamed into the room, I realised that not only was it still daylight, but that I was being held in a torture chamber of sorts. I was held suspended by my wrists from the ceiling, my hands and feet bound tightly. A man entered the chamber in front of me, and I recognised from his cloak that he was my attacker. Reaching up, he stood in front of me and removed his hood. His features were handsome and sharp, with pale skin and jet black hair. It was his eyes, however, that gave away his identity. I'd seen the same ice blue eyes in the face of Lissa's lover, Christian, and in the eyes of Natasha Ozera. In front of me sat the King of Scandina, and from the hardness in his eyes, he held nothing but contempt for me.

"You've placed me in a bit of a conundrum, Rose." He continued, his eyes sharp on my face. "You see, before you came, there was nothing standing in the way of Belikov and Thraln. My daughter would have married the young Dimitri, giving me a perfect opportunity to extend my reign over this, well, not beautiful land, but this land nonetheless. And then, an obstacle presented itself in the way of my plans."

He readjusted his seat slightly, pushing a hand through his groomed hair.

"You, Rose." He said, his voice deadly quiet. "You are that obstacle. With you in Belikov's life, he hopes for romantic notions such as love, a happy ending."

I snorted derisively.

"He doesn't love me," I scoffed. "He only wants me to pledge allegiance to him. He only wants to control me."

"Young Dimitri has battled with that particular anger all his life," Ronald told me seriously. "His need to control is the way I will worm myself into the heart of his kingdom… with the help of his father, of course."

"What?" I asked, instantly alert. "King Sergei is in on this?"

"It was his idea," the King laughed. "He knows his son is weak. When he passes, the last thing he wants is for his lands to fall into the hands of a romantic, rage filled idiot."

"You're sick," I spat, trying frantically to move my hands. "You're a monster."

"When young Belikov is out of the way," the King continued, ignoring my outburst, "my daughter will be free to choose a new King for the land. One I will assist in, of course."

I began to struggle harder, ignoring the bite of the chains into my skin.

"You can't do that!" I yelled, swinging back and forth.

"Oh, my dear, you'll find I can," he told me smoothly, rising to his feet. "And now that you are out of the way, nothing will stop us. However," he warned, his eyes glinting, "Now that I have you, I believe my daughter would like a moment."

Ronald turned then and slid from the room through the door, plunging me back into complete darkness. As I struggled, I tried not to think of the things I had seen in the corner of the room before the door had closed. The room was definitely a torture chamber, but that wasn't what concerned me. There was only one escape, and Dimitri was in danger. Even if I hated him, I couldn't let the innocents of the land suffer for the sake of a madman. I had to escape, and fast.

That thought was crushed, however, when the door swung open once more. Cold, blue eyes met my own, and I raised my head in defiance. Natasha Ozera stood in the chamber, and as she made her way towards the torture devices on the opposite wall, I vowed to die before I let out a single cry.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you have it. Turns out Rose stumbled in to a bit of politics, huh? And Dimitri, well, he disappointed me too this chapter, and I was writing it! Please review and leave me feedback; it has been a while so I am a little out of practise. Thanks so much for sticking with me everyone!<strong>


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